


Seeking Comfort

by Matilda



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 25
Words: 72,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matilda/pseuds/Matilda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is just a tad lost post kanima adventures and could do with a friend. Mr Argent has some unresolved issues, they meet somewhere in the middle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seeking Comfort Part One

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part One  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent, Scott/Alison mentioned, Derek/Stiles suggested, Chris/OMC  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Summary:** Stiles is just a tad lost post kanima adventures and could do with a friend. Mr Argent has some unresolved issues, they meet somewhere in the middle.  
 **Author notes:**  
{So I've had a major lady boner for this pairing since I read a fic a couple of weeks ago, this is what my filthy brain wanted to write.}  
\---  
  


Stiles had had a long day. In fact it was another long day in a string of long days, all he wanted to do is find Scott and have a moan and go to bed. As per usual Scott’s phone was going straight to answer phone, and after a sweep past the McCall residence confirmed no one was home, Stiles headed to the only other place Scott could be.

Stiles knocks impatiently on the front door.

“Oh hey, Mr. Argent, sorry to um disturb you, is Alison home?” The jittery teen asks.

“Oh Stiles, no sorry, Alison and Scott went to see a movie, you just missed them though you might catch them if you head there now.” Chris Argent answers in an unusually friendly tone.

Since his wife had died and the whole demise of his evil father thing, Stiles had noticed a change in Mr. Argent; he had kind of mellowed, lost a little of that ‘I’ll slit your throat while you’re sleeping’ edge.

“That’s ok Mr. Argent, I guess I’ll just head home,” Stiles replies, turning back towards his car. “Seriously Scott what the hell use are you as a best goddamn friend…”

“You want to come in Stiles, you look like you could maybe do with some company. I can’t offer much but I have coffee and some leftovers from dinner.” Chris asks pushing the door open for the boy.

“Um, thanks Mr. Argent that would um, yeah that would be good actually.”

-

Chris places the steaming mug of coffee in front of Stiles and pushes over the sugar and milk. He watches silently as Stiles pours in three heaped spoonfuls of sugar and about half the milk, the spoon clinks against the mug loudly in the quiet kitchen.

“Ahhhem, so you look like you’ve had quite a day, you um you want to talk about it.”

“Oh it’s nothing really, I mean, it’s just since the whole Jackson was a giant lizard, Matt dying, your Dad, um Mr. Argent turning uber evil thing, I dunno I just feel kinda wired and on edge all the time, like I’m just waiting for the next terrible thing to happen. I mean the summer was good, kind of, Scott and I, we hung out all the time, then he and Alison…” Stiles stops himself, what the hell is he doing spilling all this to Alison’s goddamn father.

“He and Alison got back together and now you’ve lost your best friend and yeah it does feel like we’re all waiting for the shit to hit the fan. I know how you feel Stiles believe me.”

Chris wanders over to the stool next to Stiles, gulps down a mouthful of his straight up black coffee and gives Stiles a sort of awkward, but reassuring squeeze to the shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s it waiting for the shit to hit the fan. Um…I’m sorry I shouldn’t be moaning to you about all this, you’ve had a kind of rough year, the last thing you need is some seventeen year old whining about their shit to you.” Stiles nervously rubs the back of his neck.

“Honestly it’s actually kind of nice to hear about someone else’s shit for a while, um it’s hard here at the moment, Alison, well Alison isn’t really talking to me and after all that crap with my father I had to put all the hunting stuff on hold. I needed to sort out what was left of my family, but well Scott showed up two weeks ago holding flowers and looking pathetic and as you know the rest is history.” Chris says with a humorless little laugh.

“Feels like everyone else has someone or something to focus on and I just feel like I’ve been left alone, I haven’t seen Derek in weeks, he’s always busy with Peter or Issac, and when I asked Scott about it he just said it was pack stuff. My Dad is on, like twenty-four hour, call since pretty much all his station was killed by the kanima and I dunno, I’m just tired you know man. I can’t sleep and blarghhh…Sorry man you should’ve have asked, once I get going I find it hard to stop.”

Chris just smiles at the teen and gets up off his stool.

“You wanna watch a film Stiles, I have a ton of mindless blow shit up kinda films and I don’t know about you but sometimes I just need to see shit get blown up.” He says with a smirk.

Stiles lets out a chuckle.

“That sounds pretty good man, thanks.”

-

Stiles sits awkwardly on one end of the couch waiting for Chris to come in from the kitchen, he fiddles with the zip of his hoodie and checks his phone. There’s nothing just as he thought. He taps out a quick watching a movie will be late to his Dad, though it doesn’t matter his Dad is rarely home these days and when he is it’s usually just to sleep. Chris pads into the front room with bare feet and hands over a bottle of beer to Stiles.

“Don’t tell anyone I gave you this ok Mr. Stilinski?!”

“Oh man thanks, no scouts honor, I’ll not tell a soul.”

Chris turns on the television and clicks play on the dvd player, both men sit back and drink their beers whilst watching bullets fly and things explode on the screen.

-

As the credits roll Chris looks over to see Stiles hunched over the arm of the couch fast asleep, the empty bottle of beer wedged between his legs. Chris’ phone beeps in his pocket, “Staying at Scotts A.”

Chris sighs as he pulls himself off the couch; he carefully retrieves the beer bottle from Stiles and takes the empties into the kitchen. He returns to the living room, he watches Stiles’ lax face for a while, sees the teens eyes and lips twitch like his having a really intense conversation in his dreams. He’s hyperactive in real life so Chris guesses why not in his dreams too.

After a few minutes the older man walks over to the trunk that sits just under the window and pulls out a thick blanket and a couple of pillows. Gently he maneuvers the sleeping boy so he’s stretched out on the couch with the blanket draped over him.

Shutting off the lights he glances once more at the peaceful looking teen before he goes up the stairs to bed.

-

Stiles wakes up with a crick in his neck and a heavy but ridiculously soft feeling blanket wrapped around his body.

“Where the…”

Flapping his arms out Stiles tries to unwrap himself, but instead he falls with a thump to the floor. Just as he’s managed to get himself upright and mostly off the floor, a sleepy looking Chris strolls into the room, he’s shirtless, only wearing a pair of worn, soft looking sweatpants and has on a pair of thick rimmed reading glasses. He’s carrying two mugs of coffee, one black and one white with three sugars.

“Morning, I heard you were up.” Chris says with a smirk, placing Stiles’ coffee down in front of him.

“Hey Mr. Argent, um thanks for letting me crash here, I um I’m sorry I dunno what happened, I was watching Bruce Willis fire away then all of a sudden I wake up with the sunshine coming in.”

“It’s ok Stiles, you looked like you needed the sleep so I figured I’d let you stay, I wouldn’t be so cruel as to wake up someone so deep in slobbering slumber.” Chris hides his smile behind his mug as he takes a mouthful of coffee.

“Oh man seriously I was slobbering, oh god that’s great, Alison’s Dad has to put me to bed, and I slobber like a goddamn baby.” Stiles is blushing and throwing is hands around in disbelief.

“Hey, hey I’m only kidding, no slobbering I promise. I couldn’t disturb you, you just looked too cute all peaceful and asleep.”

Both men pause at Chris’ words, what the hell was he thinking and why in the hell would he say out loud that he thought Stiles was cute.

Stiles takes a huge gulp of his coffee swallows quickly and jumps up.

“I um, I better get going, um my Dad will be home soon and I should get him breakfast. Thanks again for the um chat and film, and for letting me sleep.”

Stiles is out of the door before Chris is even on his feet.

“Fuck, well done Argent, great work, jesus.” Chris berates himself, before going upstairs to dress.

\--

Stiles isn’t sure what possesses him to do it, but one week later on another lonely Friday night he finds himself stood on the Argent’s doorstep reaching for the doorbell.

“Stiles!”

“Hey um Mr. Argent, I um, I was wondering if…”

“Scott isn’t here I’m afraid, he and Alison said something about going out to the coast for the weekend.”

“No, no that wasn’t what I was going to ask, actually Scott told be about their trip. I was wondering if you wanted to ahhh, to hang out I guess?” Stiles looks so nervous and shy when he says it Chris can’t even find the words he needs to respond, so he just steps back from the door and allows Stiles to come in.

“You want a coffee, or some food maybe, I haven’t eaten yet?”

“Oh that would be great, um I haven’t eaten either, well I had some pizza at home, but it was cold and leftover from last night so that totally doesn’t count, right?”

“No Stiles, that doesn’t count, what do you fancy? It’ll have to be more take out though, I’ve not really cooked much recently, it ah, it seems wasteful just for myself.” Chris distractedly twists the gold band on his ring finger as he talks, Stiles can’t look away from the glinting metal. The teen gulps loudly.

“Um how about Thai food, I haven’t had Thai in a while, there’s a place over on Main that delivers I think.”

A small smile plays on Chris lips.

“I love Thai food, Victoria, umm, my wife hated it and so we never ordered it.”

“Ok then Thai it is, let me get the details.”

After the order has been placed Chris pulls out two beers from the fridge, he passes one to Stiles but before he lets go he arches one eyebrow.

“Remember tell no one.”

“It’ll be our secret I promise.” Stile winks in a ridiculously over the top fashion before bring the wet brim of the bottle to his lips. Chris lets himself watch as the teen closes his eyes and tips his head back to take a gulp. His Adams apple bobs softly with each swallow and Chris has to force himself to look away.

“Ah, ahem…so did you have a better week?”

Stiles smacks his lips and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Oh yeah, I did thanks. I think Scott realized what a douche he’d been and we hung out a couple times, and I saw Derek, not that that was particularly fun, but at least I know he’s ok.” Stiles says that last part with an awkward shrug and fiddles with the beer label.

“What’s going on with you guys...Um, no sorry that’s none of my business.” Chris blurts out.

Stiles looks up at the older man, he looks embarrassed, his stubble covered cheeks a little redder than usual.

“No, no it’s ok, I don’t mind, um it’s complicated. Well not really complicated, more like it’s complicated for me, I um I have, er had a crush or whatever I dunno, I thought there was something where there wasn’t. It happens a lot, unrequited love, all that bullshit and me. I don’t even know if it was real though, he’s so, errrr I don’t know, and he’s so moody and angry all the time. He winds me up so much and I can’t work out if I hate him or want to um…well you get the picture.” It’s Stiles’ turn to blush now, he looks down at his hands and sort of just wishes his brain would stop his mouth from running just occasionally.

“Haa, sounds like a crush to me. He um, he’s not interested in you then?”

“Oh god no, I think the only interest he has in me is ripping my intestines out through my mouth. No…I think at best he tolerates me because of Scott, and I’m pretty sure I’d need to have breasts and well not have a dick for him to want me.”

“Well then his loss Stiles, his loss.” Chris says bringing his beer to his lips.

Both men stare at each other wordlessly for a moment before the doorbell sounding breaks the tension.

-

They set up the take out in the front room, containers and a couple bottles of beer piled up on the coffee table.

“Oh god delicious beefy dish that I cannot pronounce the name of, how I have missed you.” Chris practically sings to the food he’s eating. Stiles looks over at him whilst slurping up his noodles, he’s never seen this side of Chris. It’s sort of adorable and well it’s kind of hot, him all relaxed and a little goofy.

“You gotta try this man, seriously it’s so good.” Chris carefully picks up a piece of beef between his chopsticks and leans over to give it to Stiles. For an awkward moment Stiles just looks at Chris and the proffered food, before he leans forward and opens his mouth. He closes his lips around the chopsticks before pulling slowly off of them, then with his mouth full he moans out a ‘Yummm.’

“See I ahh, I was right wasn’t I, s’good.”

“Oh yeah, man we should make this a tradition, Friday night Thai food night.”

“Yeah, I would like that, but you really don’t have to hang out with an old man like me Stiles. I’m sure there are loads of guys out there who’d want to take you somewhere on a Friday night?”

“Ha, oh man you’re funny, yeah man they are just lining up. So many guys want me. Funny man Chris, real funny. Besides I like hanging out with you, and you’re really not that old, what are you like forty?”

“I’m forty-two, and thanks for saying that, but I feel old around you, what am I like the same age as your Dad?”

“No, um my Dad is actually fifty-three, he was older than my mom and well they had me a little later in life I guess. So no you’re not some father figure Mr. Argent, I just like hanging out with you.”

“Ok, fine I believe you but can we cut the Mr. Argent crap please, just call me Chris ok. It makes me feel old.”

Stiles smiles and nods his head before stuffing another huge mess of noodles into his mouth.

Once they’ve cleared away the trash, they settle down on the couch. Chris hands Stiles a third beer. Stiles takes it, he doesn’t really drink much at all so he’s starting to feel a little buzz from the alcohol, but doesn’t want to look childish so takes a fresh swig from the bottle.

“So Stiles, what shall we watch tonight, any requests?”

“Um, can we maybe just talk for a little while, I don’t know if I have the concentration for a film or I dunno we don’t have to if you’d rather watch something that’s cool too I mean, whatever.”

“No, no talking would be nice, I miss having someone to just chat with, and you’re right I’m not in the mood for a film.”

“Ok, so um, I have a question?”

Chris takes a gulp of his beer before answering. “Errr ok, go ahead Stiles.”

“Um last week, you ahh, you said I looked cute sleeping, um did you mean, are you, umm, were you say…oh god this sounded much less lame in my head.” Stiles blushes.

“It’s ok, umm I meant you looked cute Stiles, come on you have to know you’re good looking.” Chris takes another swig of beer, he looks at Stiles expectantly, eyebrow arched and his face serious.

“I, um, what?! No dude I’m Stiles, I’m not like attractive, Derek is good looking, Jackson is good looking, I’m a dork man, I’m goofy.”

“Oh Stiles, you are so much more than goofy, I find it a little sad that you don’t see what you are…we need to work on that, you are so much more.” Chris’ voice is so sincere and his face so open when he says that, it makes Stiles stomach flutter and twist with excitement.

“Um, thanks I guess, um and yeah I’ll work on that. Um ok enough with err that topic, um so what are you doing with your free weekend?” Stiles blushes furiously whilst changing the subject, Chris finds it adorable.

-

Chris places his fourth empty beer of the night onto the coffee table; he’s clutching his stomach and trying to stop himself from laughing so much.

“Oh god then what happened please tell me she didn’t walk in on you two.”

“Of course she did man, it wouldn’t be my life if the punch line wasn’t horribly, horribly embarrassing and humiliating.”

“Ha, brilliant, how the hell did you explain it?”

“Oh this is the best part, because I had the gag in my mouth I literally couldn’t speak so Scott looks at me, looks to his Mom and then just says,” Stiles adopts a Scott like drawl _, ‘Honestly this looks so much worse than it really is Mom, seriously.’_ The worrying part is she didn’t even question it, she just looked at both of us rolled her eyes then just closed his bedroom door. It was like she’d just accepted that her fourteen year old son and his dorky best friend would of course be experimenting with ball gags and leashes.”

Chris wipes at his eyes and shakes his head. “Oh man Scott hadn’t even turned then, why the hell, were you trying on leashes and all that shit.”

Stiles looks up at Chris, he looks so relaxed the corners of his eyes crinkled with little laughter lines and his forehead free of worry and tension.

“Ahh you never know what you’ll find in the evidence cupboard at the station. I used to get bored waiting for my Dad, I’d “borrow” stuff all the time, though that was one of our weirder moments.”

Stiles leans back to yawn, his already too small Henley rides up exposing a dark trail of hair dipping below his waistband. Chris’ eyes dart down to the teen’s stomach then back up to his face almost without detection, but Stiles sees the waver in his gaze. He smoothes down his shirt and makes a show of checking the time and getting ready to leave.

“Damn it’s like nearly two am, what the, how did we not notice the time. I should probably um get home, or something.”

“Hey no way you’re driving, you’ve had way too many beers.” Chris pulls himself off the couch, so steady and in control, he seems completely unaffected by the four beers. Stiles on the other hand can’t exactly feel his legs and he’s pretty sure he’s going to stumble like a drunken idiot when he attempts to stand up. As if Chris could hear his internal dilemma, he reaches down to take Stiles’ hands and pulls the teen upright.

“You kiddo can sleep this off in the guest room, steady there, I shouldn’t have let you have so many beers.” His hand falls down to the small of Stiles back as he guides him out of the room. Stiles’ head thumps, not only with the alcohol but the frustratingly fatherly tone of Chris’ last statement. Seriously he cannot work this guy out; one minute Chris is telling Stiles he’s good looking and practically drooling over an inch of exposed flesh and then the next he’s pretty much patting him on the head and making him feel all of twelve. Stiles wouldn’t mind so much but those looks Chris keeps giving him and the way Stiles feels around him is decidedly un-twelve year old in its nature.

After a slow and slightly unsteady walk up the stairs Chris leads Stiles into the small guest room, the bed is made up but looks like it hasn’t been slept in for a while.

“Ah we never really used this room, occasionally one of my hunters would stay in here, but yeah it’s clean and a damn sight more comfortable than the sofa.”

Stiles just nods, he suddenly feels completely exhausted both physically and emotionally he could probably sleep standing up right now and he wouldn’t care.

“Well then I let you um sleep.” Chris pulls away from Stiles, but before he can Stiles tightens the grip on Chris’ fingers, forcing Chris to step back towards him. Stiles is facing the bed with Chris standing behind his left shoulder, so close he can almost feel Chris’ warm breath on his neck.

“Thank you Chris.” Stiles turns quickly and places a chased kiss on Chris’ dry lips.

“Oh um, you better sleep off those beers, hey Stiles, I’d better go.”

Stiles drops the older man’s hand and watches as he makes a rushed exit out of the small room. Stiles groans to himself and scrubs his palm angrily over his buzzed off hair.

“Great job Stiles, fucked it up again.”

He pulls off his jeans and drops onto the bed, sleep comes quicker than he’d expected.

-

The sound of a garage truck backing up pulls Stiles reluctantly from his sleep, he attempts to bury his head under the pillows but nothing drowns out the incessant sound. He drags his vaguely hung over body upright and glances at his surroundings.

_‘Oh fuck, yup that’s right, I crashed at Chris’ last night, after I fucking kissed him and he bolted from the room, great, brilliant Stiles. Such a fucking joke, your friends all fuck off and you start crushing on Alison’s goddamn father, jesus you are so fucked up.’_

Stiles cracks his neck to one side trying to shut up the angry berating voice in his head, he looks over to the stool beside the door. On it is a towel, a new toothbrush still in it’s packaging, a fresh t-shirt, a bottle of water and two aspirin, Chris has obviously been up a while. Again Stiles isn’t sure if he finds it adorable and kind of hot, or utterly smothering and parental, ultimately he decides it’s way too early and he’s far too sleepy to deal with any of this shit. He takes a swig of the water and quickly downs the pills.

He quietly as possible heads for the bathroom, but he can’t hear any noises in the house at all. He showers and gets dressed quickly, helping himself to a dab of Chris’ deodorant and a squirt of his cologne. _‘Excellent now I smell like a ridiculously hot older man, great Stiles, way to make the day full of inappropriate boners.’_

Figuring Chris has obviously left for the day Stiles heads down to the kitchen, as he bounds through the doorway though he is greeted with a delightfully sweaty, too tight wife beater clad Chris gulping down water like his life depends on it.

Stiles stands stunned and slightly awkward in the doorway, watching as tiny beads of sweat run down Chris’ neck and drop onto his shoulder and as his throat swallows down the water in huge gulps.

The moment Chris sees Stiles he pulls the bottle away from his lips and wipes across his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Oh hey Stiles, good you’re up, how are you feeling?”

“Um fine thanks, yeah fine.”

“Good, good, I really gotta stop giving you beer, sorry about that.” Chris actually blushes and looks awkwardly down at himself. “Um I just went for a run, but if you give me ten minutes to take a shower I was gonna head out to the old army firing range, if you fancy some shooting practice?”

“Yeah that would be good actually, I was just gonna go home and shot at zombies, so actually shooting would be more fun.”

-

Chris pulls his black SUV off the highway and up an old dusty track, the vehicle rumbles over the uneven surface causing Stiles to tighten his grip on the seat.

“It’s a bit bumpy, sorry I forget people aren’t used to off road so much these days.” Chris says with a smirk as he purposely drives over a pothole.

“Haha very funny old man, I’m just not so steady when I’m hung over ok, you trying to make me toss my cookies.”

“Fair enough, ok I’ll slow down, there that ok for you _old man!”_

“Much better.” Stiles snuggles into the seat and closes his eyes.

They pull to an abrupt stop in front of an old warehouse, the high windows are battered and broken but the huge doors look secure.

“Been coming here for years, it’s perfect for target practice, I don’t even think the army remember it exists.”

Stiles warily follows the older man, watches as Chris unlatches the lock and chain with deft fingers. Inside is essentially any gamer’s dreamland, it looks like over the years Chris and various hunters have created a little world inside the huge space. Actually now that Stiles thinks about it, the place totally looks like the training level for tomb raider.

“Ha yeah a few of the ideas might have come from there.” Chris answers, though Stiles wasn’t aware he’d spoken those thoughts out loud.

“It’s just me that comes up here now, most of the other hunters are either dead or have moved on, but it’s useful, Alison and I used to come here almost every week, um before…” Chris shakes his head clear of the bad memory, before leading Stiles over to watch looks like a fully equipped kitchen.

“Oh man is that a vending machine, what the hell? Were you guys friends with Richie Rich?”

“Yeah um actually something like that, an old retired hunter came into a lot of money, but like so many hunters didn’t have any family to spend it on. He basically let us do whatever we wanted, saw it as some fucked up hunting academy, or some kind of legacy I guess. He’s dead now, but that’s him there.” Chris points to a faded photograph of a huge mustached man wearing plaid, smoking a pipe with a gun in each hand, smile like a serial killer.

“Um he looks utterly fucking terrifying actually.” Stiles quips.

“Ha yeah he was a mean old fucker. I was so scared of him as a kid, but he taught me how to shot anything from pretty much anywhere he wasn’t all bad. Let’s get you kitted out, I take it you’ve fired a gun before?”

“A couple of times, only an old shotgun of my dad’s though, he never really liked the idea of me with a firearm, haha not that I’m surprised, I mean have you got a bullet proof vest or something, I can be kinda clumsy.”

“Nah I trust you, plus I’m gonna teach you how to shoot properly, none of that computer games bullshit.”

Chris gets a glint in his eye, on anyone else it would look threatening, manic almost, but on him, Stiles just finds it unbelievably hot.

“Cool,” Stiles squeaks out, “Um, that would be cool I mean.” He says in a lower octave.

-

“Just relax your hold Stiles you’re too fast on the trigger, you’ve got to let the gun go easy, just breath and relax. You get that down then hitting moving targets is easy, honest.”

“Ha yeah right I’m like twenty paces away from a cupboard cutout of Michael J Fox and I still can’t hit his freaking head.”

Stiles lets his arm fall to the side and lets out a frustrated sigh. Chris steps over to him, he places one hand on Stiles tense shoulder.

“Hey now, stop being so hard on yourself, you’re doing really well, this is a little different to shooting at bottles at the arcade or zombies on a screen ok.” Chris runs his palm down the length of Stiles arm causing Stiles to shudder involuntarily. Chris lightly grips Stiles’ wrist, both men stand for few seconds breathing in sync and taking in the odd feel of their skin touching. Chris’ fingertips feel rough against the soft delicate skin on the inside of Stiles’ wrist. He gently runs his middle finger back and forth, almost testing his or maybe Stiles’ restraint.

“Chrissss.” Stiles breathes out softly.

Chris doesn’t reply just rests his forehead against the back of Stiles’ head. Stiles has to close his eyes against the sensation, it feels too intimate, too private, like it’s a gesture between lovers, but they aren’t lovers. Chris still treats Stiles like a freaking child for god’s sake, still mollifies and babies him.

Roughly Stiles pulls away from Chris, he takes aim and shots a bullet straight between Marty Mcfly’s eyes, the cupboard shakes on it’s stand, wavering for a few seconds before falling to the ground with a thud and a cloud of dust. Stiles stalks away from a startled looking Chris, he takes the rickety metal staircase two steps at a time before placing the gun on a desk and walking out the huge doors. The loud smack of slamming the door closed only goes so far towards taking the edge off Stiles temper. He comes to a stop at the far end of the warehouse atop a slight hill over looking the various assault course and target ranges. The teen lets a wave of anger course through his body, lets the itch of want scratch below his skin and the pounding of his heart, beat within his chest. No one has made Stiles feel like this, the most annoying part is he doesn’t know what ‘this’ is. With Derek he got it, he got it loud and clear, he was a child with a schoolboy crush on a sour faced, moody freaking werewolf, it was fantasy, he gets that now. The same with Lydia, she wasn’t anymore real than Derek, she was perfect and unattainable and Stiles knew what to do with that, he could pine and want them but he could never have them, but with Chris, gahh, with Chris he doesn’t even know where he stands.

He leans back against the cold corrugated iron wall of the warehouse, letting his head repeatedly thump against the hard surface, his jaw clenching and unclenching with the rhythm. He’s so lost in his own little angry world that he doesn’t even hear Chris approach.

“Stiles, there you are…”

Stiles eyes come back into focus and he glances at Chris’ annoyingly calm, composed form.

“I want to go now Chris, just take me home.” Without waiting for a reply Stiles walks back to the SUV and pulls the passenger side open, he climbs in and waits for Chris to lock up.

“Stiles, I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…please…”

“Don’t Chris, just take me home I have to make sure my Dad eats something and I’ve got schoolwork to do.”

The last part of the sentence hangs taut between them, the emphasis Stiles places on the word school doesn’t go unnoticed by Chris.

“Fine ok, I’ll just take you home then.”

The rest of the drive is in silence. Stiles is already opening the car door and stepping to the sidewalk before Chris has even pulled into his driveway.

“Thanks for the lift.” Stiles saying as he pulls the jeeps keys from his pocket.

“Stiles.” Chris calls after the teen, but Stiles just ducks his head and jumps into the driver seats.

-

Chris’ POV

He knew it was a stupid mistake. He knew that he hadn’t got his ridiculously inappropriate feelings under control. He’d thought the 10k run he’d embarked upon at six am this morning would’ve helped disperse the jittery desire that was coursing through his veins, but all it had done was tamp it down a little.

Watching the teen get so frustrated with himself just destroyed Chris, it made him want to simultaneously pull the boy into a hug and tell him everything would be ok and shove Stiles against the nearest flat surface and worship him, kiss those beautiful lips and grab at his grown out hair and tell him how blind he was if he couldn’t see just how spectacular, beautiful and funny he was.

But Jesus Christ give him a break, the boy is seventeen years old, he is a goddamn year younger than Chris’ own freaking daughter, and as much as he wanted Stiles Chris knows that he can’t have him. He needs to stop it with the touching, the teasing and he definitely needs to stop plying the boy with alcohol, fuck he thought he’d gotten over this phase, this digression; he wasn’t suppose to like men anymore, he’d loved Victoria hadn’t he? What they had had was real, that meant something, not this lusting after a freaking teenager with soulful eyes and a pouty mouth.

Chris downs the shot of whiskey lets the burn chase down his throat, he slams the empty glass against the table and stalks up to his bathroom.

Once under the spray Chris tries to clear his mind, he turns the temperature up and lets the scalding water beat onto his body. His hand trails down his flat stomach; he aggressively pulls at his cock. He wills it to go soft but as soon as he touches himself his mind flashes back to the soft fragile skin on Stiles inner wrist, the warm spicy smell of Stiles’ neck and the way he almost moaned out Chris’ name in frustration.

“Fuckk…” Chris squeezes at the base, slaps his other hand against the wet tiles and lets his forehead fall against them.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He pants out as he roughly pulls and tugs on his dick, letting his body take over, each pull is accompanied by an image of Stiles. At first they’re from memory, Stiles swallowing from the beer bottle his lips wrapped round the rim, or Stiles slurping up his noodles; then as Chris feels the tension building and the familiar tightness in his balls his imagination runs. Suddenly Stiles is on his knees sucking at Chris’ cock, tonguing over the slit, caressing his tight balls, Chris pulls furiously at his cock, squeezing the length and rubbing a thumb over the sensitive tip. Finally as his orgasm begins to sweep through him, his dirty fucking mind provides an image of Stiles bent over the old broken desk at the firing range, Chris pounding into his tight virgin ass, Stiles is grunting and groaning and panting his name.

“Fuckkkkk.” Chris spurts out a thick spray of come onto the shower tiles. He watches part revolted, part fascinated as it drips slowly down the wall and swirls towards the plughole. His breathing is erratic and his heart is thundering in his chest as he rinses off and washes away the evidence of his momentary lapse in control.

After he’s dried and dressed Chris does a circuit of pull-ups, push-ups and crunches, willing his mind clear of any thoughts of that awkwardly beautiful teen.

-

The next morning Chris decides he needs to stop this; he can’t be acting or feeling like a messed up teenager when he’s closer to fifty for christ’s sake. He doesn’t actually have any of Stiles’ contact details but that isn’t a problem. He pushes open Alison’s door and though he knows his only daughter is miles away enjoying the seaside air, he still feels vaguely concerned he’s going to be exposed.

Her laptop is sat on her desk, he opens the lid and the screen blinks to life. It’s woefully easy to crack her password “Scott4ever” is hardly the enigma code, once he’s in it’s just a matter of opening her already logged onto emails. Chris scrolls down the list of contacts before clicking on Stiles’ name. Chris reads the address and snorts to himself, ‘stilesthepresident@stiles.com.’

He taps both the address and Stiles’ cell into his blackberry and closes down Alison’s laptop. That was the easy part, now he just has to compose an email. Fuck, he’s never been good with words, a gun or a knife no problem, stitching up a wound, piece of piss, feelings; words, he’s screwed.

He makes the sensible decision of having a three o’clock in the afternoon whiskey to help in the writing process, half way into his second glass he decides to just man the fuck up and write it.

To: stilesthepresident@stiles.com,

From: C.Argent70@gmail.com,

Subject: Sorry

Hello Stiles,

I just wanted to apologize for the way I behaved both yesterday and last weekend. I am a grown man and regardless of what you say I am old enough to be your father. I should not of made any comments about you and I should not have given you any alcohol. My feelings towards you should have remained private, and I regret that I made you feel uncomfortable.

I think it’s best for both of us if we don’t see each other outside of pack/Alison related events.

Once again I’m sorry for my behavior, it was unacceptable and not fair on you.

Regards

Chris

-

Stiles POV

Stiles reads through the email again, he blinks almost cartoon-like in disbelief. So that clears up the issue of whether Chris wanted him or not, he guesses but what the hell, they can no longer see each other, fuck that. Stiles doesn’t reply, doesn’t need to he’s hatching a plan.

The Wednesday after the email was sent is parent/teacher night at the school, Stiles usually tags along and disappears as soon as he can find Scott, but not this night no Sir. Stiles picks out his way too tight on his ass jeans and the soft grey Henley his dad shrunk in the wash a couple months back. He runs a little product though his hair and then scrubs his hands over it so it looks artfully messy.

“Stiles is that the only shirt you can find, jesus you trying to make me feel guilty, I’ll buy you a new one, honestly.”

“No Dad, I just like this one it’s soft and whatever it’s just parent/teacher night I don’t have to look smart, do I?” Stiles goes for casual indifference, it’s a tough act to pull off with the jittery mix of ADHD and lust running through his body.

“No, no I suppose not, I’ll just look like a father that can’t properly clothe their child that’s all, come on then we’re going to be late.” Sheriff Stilinski sighs as he pulls on his jacket.

“I have to go back to the station afterwards, I can drop you home though first.”

“Oh don’t worry I can catch a lift with Scott and his Mom I guess.”

“Ok, yeah that’ll be easier.”

They ride to the school in pretty much silence, Stiles’ knows his Dad is exhausted, so he tries to be as quiet as possible, but he can’t help tapping out an anxious little rhythm on the dashboard.

“Hey you ok, not nervous about tonight, you’re doing ok in school aren’t you?”

“Oh, no, no I’m fine sorry just a little distracted you know.”

 -

The school is bustling with concerned parents and bored teens, Stiles sees Scott straight away he’s hiding in the corner whispering and giggling with Alison. Oh god Alison’s here that means Chris is definitely here somewhere. Stiles’ is pulled over to have a chat with his Dad and his math teacher before he gets a chance to scan the room.

After three dull and repetitive discussions about how Stiles’ could be brilliant if only he applied himself, or if he could just pay more attention in class. It’s the same every goddamn year and every year his Dad explains Stiles’ unique situation to another bored looking teacher. Just as Stiles’ is giving up hope of finding Chris his Dad jerks him over to the refreshment table. As they wait in line for their coffee Stiles’ clocks the broad shoulders and the musky scent of Chris; he is of course waiting for coffee too just stood right in front of them. Before Stiles’ can even think of an opener his Dad jumps in.

“Oh hey there Chris, how are you? Alison not here?” Stiles’ Dad is shaking Chris’ hand and gripping Chris’ shoulder with his free hand. Since Mrs. Argent’s death Stiles’ Dad has understandably felt a kinship with the other widower.

“Ahh um Sheriff Stilinski, and Stiles…” Chris’ eyes dart towards Stiles, his tongue unconsciously swipes across his bottom lip before he pulls his gaze back to Stiles’ father.

“Umm, no well yes Alison’s here somewhere but um, with Scott I think, um I should let you get your coffee…” Chris attempts to make an exit, but Sheriff Stilinski grabs hold of his arm.

“Actually Chris, if you don’t mind I’d like to have a chat with you; nothing too serious but um, if you could spare me a few minutes.”

Once again Chris’ eyes land on Stiles. The teen can feel his cheeks warm up under the attention, but it feels good. Stiles shoves both hands into the pockets of his jeans, he pulls his shoulders, stretching his torso out and rasises his eyebrows up in the universal sign for “awkward.” He tries to look as innocent as possible whilst knowing for a fact a good two inches of his taut stomach and little happy trail are showing. He knows his job is done when Chris stutters his reply to his father and turns an adorable shade of pink.

“Dad, I’m gonna grab a coffee, I’ll let you and Mr. Argent talk in peace. Nice to see you again Sir.” Stiles leans back a little before mock saluting Chris, pulling his shirt up just enough to flash his belly button at Chris before heading over to the refreshment stand.

Stiles takes a slurp of his weak and fairly cold cup of coffee, he’s hung back from where Chris and his Dad are talking. His Dad’s back is towards him so he can see Chris’ face. Every few seconds Chris’ gaze wanders over to Stiles and every time the older man is caught in the act Stiles smirks or winks at him.

Once the Sheriff is finished discussing whatever part of a case he needed Chris’ help with, he walks over to Stiles to let him know that he’s going to head back to work for the evening.

Stiles says bye to his Dad and watches as his father walks out of the hall. He turns back to scan the room and is met with the angry glare of Chris about five inches away from his own face.

“Oh hey there Mr. Argent.” Stiles says with a grin.

“Stiles, please follow me, I need to talk to you about something.”

Chris doesn’t wait for an answer he just grabs hold of Stiles’ wrist and pulls the teen through the crowd of parents and out into the corridor. Once out Chris glances over the doors and walks quickly to the third door on the left. The lock is picked in under a minute, and Chris’ other hand doesn’t once drop Stiles’ wrist. He pulls them both into the cleaning closet and clicks the door locked once they are inside.

“What the…how the…are you actually FBI?” Stiles asks in awe.

“I’ve studied the blueprints of this building countless times and that was a simple spring latch lock, but that’s not the point…” Chris pushes Stiles roughly against the door.

“Just what the hell did you think you were doing in there?”

Chris has one hand fisted next to Stiles’ head and the other is pressing Stiles’ hips back to the door.

“I…um…I…fuck.” Stiles is rock hard, apparently all the blood rushing to fill his cock has caused his brain to stop forming sentences.

Chris leans his forehead against the teens and he closes his eyes.

“You fucking tease Stiles Stilinski, you knew just what you were doing in there. Looking like a fucking rent boy in your obscenely tight jeans and that top that barely covers your stomach…fuckkk.”

“Oh god...fuck Chris, want you, please I want you so bad.” Stiles utters against the older mans lips.

“Stiles!” Chris practically growls out. He steps away from the teen as if he’s been burnt. Both men stare at each other, chests heaving in the tense atmosphere. Stiles bites down on his puffy bottom lip and it’s enough to break Chris from his daze.

“Turn around and face the door pull your pants down…” Chris barks at Stiles. He just looks at Chris’ for a second, then scrambles for his zipper and turns towards the door. Chris manhandles Stiles a little, placing the teen where he wants him and roughly yanking down Stiles’ tight half undone jeans.

“Oh fuck.” Chris palms crudely over the tight black boxer briefs that cover Stiles’ pert arse, before those get pulled half way down his thighs too.

“Don’t move, ok, don’t you fucking move.” Chris’ tone is demanding but not aggressive, too caught up with lust and need to be truly threatening. Chris quickly unfastens his own jeans and pulls his swollen leaking cock from within. He places one large palm on Stiles’ shoulder to hold the boy in place as he rubs the tip of his cock up and down the cleft of Stiles’ butt.

“Oh god…oh shit, fuck…” Stiles mutters against the painted surface of the door.

“Be quiet Stiles, jesus.”

Chris pushes the length of his dick between the gap of Stiles’ thighs, the friction and heat is delicious. Chris lets out a moan as Stiles’ shudders at the sensation. Stiles’ dick is leaking a steady stream of precome onto the door, but he can’t reach his dick because of the way Chris is holding him tight against the wood. Instead Stiles rocks his hips a little causing his hard cock to rub against the surface. Chris picks up a punishing pace; his cock squeezing and rubbing against Stiles’ soft skin, with each thrust the wet head of Chris’ cock kisses Stiles’ tight balls. Chris pushes two of his fingers on his now free hand, into Stiles’ wide open, panting mouth.

“Lick them.” Chris demands.

Stiles tongues at Chris’ fingers. He laps over the tips, trying to wet them as much as possible.

“Good boy.”

Chris pulls his hand away, Stiles makes a whimpering noise at the loss. Using two fingers Chris pulls Stiles’ cheeks apart and then uses the wet pad of his middle finger to rub at Stiles’ tight little pucker.

“Oh fuck, please, please…” Stiles pants out whilst canting his hips back towards Chris’ cock and hand.

“Greedy little cock slut aren’t you, fuck Stiles, you’d let me fuck you right here in the goddamn janitors closet wouldn’t you?” Chris growls into Stiles’ ear.

Stiles can’t even answer that just lets out a moan of confirmation.

Chris leans his upper body back and watches as his cock disappears between the teenager’s milky white thighs, he twists his hand so it’s at a better angle and pushes his finger through that tight muscle.

“Oh fuck me…” Stiles groans out.

Chris take a step back pulling his cock free and letting go of Stiles’ shoulder. He uses one hand to roughly fuck into Stiles’ hole with two fingers whilst his other hand aggressively tugs at his own cock. Stiles pushes his arse out so that Chris’ fingers push in deeper, the new angle is all it takes for his orgasm to rock through his body. Stiles empties himself all over the immaculate grey painted door.

Chris lets out a groan and pulls his fingers free; he uses them instead to push Stiles’ cheeks apart. He lines his cock up with Stiles’ hole and grunts out as his loads shoots all over it and drips down Stiles’ thighs.

He falls forward, once again squashing Stiles against the door and he breathes through the aftershocks twitching all over his body.

“Fuck, fuck.” Chris snaps out. He grabs a cloth hanging for one of the shelves and cleans himself up, before he tucks his cock back in his jeans and zips them closed.

“Fuck it, goddamn it.” Chris angrily mutters to himself.

Without so much as a word or a glance to Stiles, Chris unlocks the door, pulls it open and stalks through it. The latch clicks loudly and Stiles bangs his head against the wood. He doesn’t move for a while, too humiliated to deal with the mess he knows covers his arse and jeans; too horrified at just how turned on he feels, being used and left like that and too angry at Chris for being such a fucking prick.  
  
[Part Two...](http://caoscalmo.livejournal.com/7470.html)

  



	2. Seeking Comfort Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is just a tad lost post kanima adventures and could do with a friend. Mr Argent has some unresolved issues, they meet somewhere in the middle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm quite enjoying this pairing, feels kinda odd to be writing non-spn stuff, but as they say a change is as good as a rest. Though I think I'll be back to my boys soon :)

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part One  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent, Scott/Alison mentioned, Derek/Stiles suggested, Chris/OMC  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Summary:** Stiles is just a tad lost post kanima adventures and could do with a friend. Mr Argent has some unresolved issues, they meet somewhere in the middle.  
 **Author notes:** So I'm quite enjoying this pairing, feels kinda odd to be writing non-spn stuff, but as they say a change is as good as a rest. Though I think I'll be back to my boys soon :)  
Not sure if anyone is reading this or not, but hopefully y'all are enjoying it if you are! ta x  
\---  
  


Stiles wipes halfheartedly at the mess on his backside and roughly pulls up his pants. He waits for a second to collect his thoughts then pulls open the door. The corridor is thankfully empty so he jogs to the rear exit of the school building. He decides to take the long way home, he needs the air and quiet to clear his head and try to process what the hell just happened.

He’s making his way along the path that skirts around the outside of the woods when he hears a twig break somewhere to the left of him. Stiles sweeps his eyes around him but sees nothing, deciding he’s probably just hearing things he sets off again. About five more paces along the path a figure jumps in front of Stiles and blocks his path. Stile lets out a very manly squawk and falls back onto his already soiled butt.

When Stiles looks up he sees a very Derek shaped figure offer out his hand to help Stiles up.

“What the fuck Derek, you gave me a fucking heart attack, you dick!” Stiles yells at him.

Derek pulls the younger man to his feet and declares, “You smell weird, where have you been?”

As he says it Stiles is sure he sees a flash of red in Derek’s eyes, but before it’s even really there, it’s gone.

“You know Derek in polite society it’s customary to greet people with a ‘Hello’ or ‘Good Evening’, you don’t scare the hell out of them and then fucking sniff them, jesus!”

“I wasn’t sniffing you! Your scent is off I could tell that from a mile away, and I’m um, I’m sorry if I scared you.” Derek takes a step back from Stiles and lets the teen brush off his jeans before continuing down the path.

Stiles takes a deep breath. _Just his freaking luck, he just did, god knows what he just did, but he did it with Chris fucking Argent in the janitors closet at school (classy Stiles, real fucking classy) and now the object of his lusty teenage dreams suddenly wants a romantic walk home together through the woods, and lets not forget the heady aroma of the rapidly drying, crusty come that covers most of Stiles lower half. Seriously just shot him now._

“It’s fine Derek, whatever, why are you out here anyways this side of the woods isn’t even near your place?”

“Oh we’re just patrolling the woods for a while, nothing to worry about, we just um well we just need to be vigilant.”

“Rrrrright, nothing to worry about, ok!” Stiles raises his eyebrow towards Derek.

Derek takes in a deep breath again.

“Seriously Stiles what the hell did you roll around in you smell like, um like…oh shit…” Derek ducks his head and makes a half growl half gagging noise.

“For gods sake Derek. I just fucking jerked off with a guy from school ok, I feel shitty enough about it already, he fucking got jizz all over me and now I stink of that I should imagine. Sorry if it’s offending your delicate wolfy senses.”

Stiles speeds up his pace momentarily leaving the werewolf a few paces behind, though Derek is of course fast as fuck without trying so catches up no problem.

“I’m sorry Stiles, I shouldn’t have said anything. I um didn’t know you had a boyfriend, I’ll um leave you then, let you get back to him.”

Before Stiles can even respond Derek has wolfed out and run off in the opposite direction. Stiles stops in his tracks and turns to face the trail of dust Derek left behind.

“Oh for fucks sake Derek, what the hell, you’re fucking jealous is that it? Fuck my life!! No, this isn’t actually happening.”

Stiles mumbles to himself and stomps the whole eight miles back to his house. Once home he takes a steaming hot shower and scrubs at his skin until he’s pink.

-

It isn’t until late the next afternoon that Stiles checks his phone, there’s one message waiting for him. It’s from an unknown number and was sent at five fifteen that morning. It contains four words, “Sorry I’m fucked up.”

Stiles blinks down at the message, willing it to say something, anything more than that.

“Mr. Stilinski unless that message is telling you the equation for the surface consisting of all points that are equidistant from this point then I strongly suggest you turn the phone off and put it away, before I take the goddamn phone away from you. Now who has the correct answer, ahhh of course Ms. Martin.”

Stiles puts the phone back in his pocket, he zones out from Mr Gregson’s dull as fuck math lesson and doodles in the back of his book.

“Sorry I’m fucked up.” “I’m fucked up.” “Sorry, I’m fucked up.”

None of the ways he writes it makes him feel any better about the statement, how the hell is he going to reply to that.

“No worries, I enjoyed it.” “Hey what d’ya know, me too!” “Please let’s do it again soon, I want to be used, fuck me up all you want Mr. Argent.”

Stiles knows he’s screwed because all the message really makes him want to do is go find Chris Argent and kiss him and tell him it’s ok. It makes him what to know exactly what Chris means and why Chris thinks he’s so fucked up. Yeah of course it was a little kinky and a little rougher than Stiles had imagined his first sexual experience would be, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t fucking hot either.

The bell rings for the end of the period, Stiles leaps to his feet and practically runs to his jeep. Before he can talk himself out of it he’s over at the Argent’s house, knocking frantically on the door.

“Chris it’s me let me in.”

Stiles waits and waits, he knocks again, but there’s no answer. Chris’ SUV is parked in the drive way and there is a light shining in the hallway. Stiles decides to check around the back. As he reaches the back yard Stiles can hear the unmistakable smack and thwack of someone hitting a punching bag. Turning the corner Stiles is met with Chris’ sweaty naked back, he’s dressed in a loose pair of black basketball shorts, his hands are wrapped and his feet are bare. The sweat runs in a trickle along his hairline and down the corded muscles in his back. Stiles just watches him for a moment, watches the tight pull on Chris’ shoulder as he draws his hand back and hears the swish through the air as he lets his fist meet the bag. Chris lets out a flurry of punches and high kicks to the swinging dead weight, grunts and groans escaping his lips unaware he’s being watched.

Stiles takes a few steps back and pretends to arrive again, this time calling out Chris’ name first.

“Stiles, what, why are here? You shouldn’t be here.”

Stiles ignores Chris’ stuttered question, he simple steps right up into Chris’ space.

“You see Chris this hot older guy practically hauled me into a closet yesterday and let himself rub off all over my tight little virgin ass. Then once he’d pretty much covered me in his come, he fucked off without so much as a thank you. Well I don’t know what you think, but personally I think that’s just kind of rude, I mean I could’ve at least gotten a reach around.”

Chris gulps and tries to move out of Stiles’ way, but Stiles is too quick and backs the older man up against the soft, worn leather of the punch bag.

“I uh, um, I’m…”

“Shut up Chris.” Stiles orders as he presses a rough and passionate kiss against Chris’ parted, shocked lips. Stiles pushes his fingers into Chris’ sweat damp hair and holds with older man’s face between his palms. Chris groans at the behavior, he relaxes into it letting Stiles plunder his mouth and take control of the kiss. Stiles breaks the kiss instead he leans his forehead against Chris’.

“Fuck Chris, I want you so much, yesterday was so fucking hot, don’t care that you’re fucked up, just want you please.”

“Stiles, fuck, you don’t mean that, yesterday was just I dunno, I shouldn’t have done…I had no right to act like that.”

“Shhhh, Chris listen to me,” Stiles’ squeezes his fingers against Chris’ scalp. “I want you, no one else, just you, I want you and your weird ass kinks, please let me.”

Chris places his hands on Stiles’ hips and pushes his thumbs underneath the hem of Stiles’ tee-shirt.

“God I want you so much, you don’t know how much Stiles, you’re so fucking hot. I shouldn’t want you though, I shouldn’t want this, god it’s so wrong, fucked up, it’s so wrong.”

Stiles slides his hand down the length of Chris’ body, until his hand is gently cupping Chris’ swelling cock.

“This doesn’t feel wrong to me, in fact this is the only thing in the whole goddamn mess that is my life, that makes any sense to me. So please Chris let me.”

Chris leans his head back against the bag, he bites down into his bottom lip and stares into Stiles’ eyes. It’s all the permission Stiles needs before he reaches into Chris’ shorts. The fact that Chris isn’t wearing any underwear makes Stiles groan and briefly shut his eyes against the wave of lust the courses through his body. He tugs at Chris’ cock, watching the emotions skitter across Chris’ face, conflicted pleasure and guilt.

Stiles ducks his head to suck and bite along Chris’ defined jaw line and down his warm neck. He sucks the skin between his lips, then laps at the marks he knows he’s leaving behind. All Chris can do is whimper, his hands reach back to hold on to the leather either side of him.

“So hot Chris, wanted you for so long, didn’t think I could have you though. Didn’t think you’d be mine.”

Stiles works his way lower, letting the pink tip of his tongue poke out and dance around Chris’ tight brown nipples. Chris grunts out and thrusts his cock up into Stiles’ fist.

“You like that huh, like having your nipples played with.” Stiles grins up at Chris, his lips swollen and his hair messed up, he looks sinfully debauched and it just makes Chris’ cock throb that little bit harder.

Stiles uses his fingers to tweak and pull at the nub not currently being lapped at by his tongue. He lavishes the nipples with attention for a few minutes, making Chris whimper and writhe beneath him, before Stiles, with an usual grace, sinks to his knees.  
“Oh fuck, Stiles what are you…oh fuck me...” Stiles draws the tip of Chris’ cock between his plump, pink lips and agonizingly gently sucks on the head.

“Oh god, Stiles, fuck, fuck, anyone could see fuck we’re, oh shit, we’re in broad daylight in my open…”

Stiles sinks a good four inches of Chris’ dick into his tight, warm mouth and hollows out his cheeks.

“Ohhhhhhhh jesus christ…”

Stiles pushes his tongue a little out of his mouth and drags it along the underside of Chris’ cock before pulling off with a visceral slurp. He looks up at Chris through his long eyelashes with falsely innocent eyes. “Sorry you were saying something…”

Chris actually growls at Stiles as he pulls the teenagers mouth towards his cock again.

“Just shut up and suck me you fucker.”

Stiles smirks a little before all nine inches of Chris’ rigid dick are being forced into his mouth. Stiles breathes heavily through his nose and tries to relax his throat, he clenches his fist as his body fights the need to wretch. He feels tears spring to his eyes and it causes him to whimper with want and desire, this is it, this is how he wanted Chris to use him.

“That’s a good boy, take it, there you go take it all in. Fuck, knew your mouth would come in handy one of these days.”

Stiles relaxes his gag reflex as Chris pushes a little further down Stiles’ throat. Chris tentatively pumps his hips forward, groaning with pleasure at each thrust.

Stiles takes a deep breath through his nose, the rich scent of Chris’ groin hits him, slightly sweaty, it’s a mix of earthy and woody smells, Stiles can’t get enough of it, he pushes forward burying his nose in the thick wiry hair above Chris’ cock.

Stiles swallows, the suction on Chris’ dick is too much his fingers tighten painfully, scrapping against Stiles’ scalp with a pained sounding groan his empties his load straight down Stiles’ throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…oh god Stiles, are you ok, fuck, you okay?”

Chris pulls the docile teen to his feet, scattering anxious kisses all over his face and neck. Stiles just pushes his head into the crook of Chris’ neck, whilst letting his hand drift to his jeans. He hurriedly pulls out his painfully hard cock.

“Fuck, so hot baby, so beautiful.” The endearment slips from Chris’ lips and Stiles tugs harder on his own cock. Chris slides his own hand down, pushing Stiles’ out of the way. He strokes and teases at the aching length. With one arm cradled around the teen, holding up Stiles weight, Chris uses his other to vigorously bring him to blissful orgasm.

-

Chris leads a sleepy Stiles up the stairs and into his en-suite bathroom. As he’s caringly pulling off Stiles’ clothes they hear Scott and Alison bound in through the front door.

“Babe is that Stiles’ jeep parked out the front?”

“Oh I didn’t see it, um…Oh yeah looks like it, that’s kinda weird. Hey babe don’t, ah stop that oh my god Scott you’re insatiable!”

“Huh, I’m what?!”

Alison giggles, before pulling Scott into what can only be a kiss if the moments of silence that fill the air are anything to go by.

Stiles is rigid against Chris’ side. Running a calming hand through Stiles’ hair he whispers, “Shhhh don’t worry they only have eyes for each other, the fact your car is here will be forgotten in seconds. Let’s get into the shower at least that way she’ll realize I’m still in the house.”

Stiles just nods and trusts Chris’ instinct. Once they are both naked Chris gently pushes Stiles into the cubicle. He waits a moment before joining his lover.

“Oh my god Ali, your Dad is still here the showers going, I thought you said he’d be out.”

“Oh man, can we go to yours instead, your Mom’s working right?”

As Chris steps into the shower he hears the front door slam shut.

Stiles is lazily soaping up his torso with a cloth when Chris steps up close behind him and takes the cloth from his hand. With a tenderness and gentility that belies the early ferocity of their love making, Chris washes and caresses Stiles’ body. His hands rub over Stiles’ shoulders gently kneading into the muscle, he strokes down the length of the teen’s spine.

“Turn around baby.” Chris whispers. Without another word Chris soothes the cloth over Stiles’ chest and neck before dipping it lower to clean away any evidence of their shenanigans that remain on Stiles’ groin. Chris massages some shampoo into Stiles’ hair as the teen turns back around to face the showerhead. He leans back against Chris and lets the older man take care of him.

Once both men are clean Chris turns off the faucet and hands a fresh towel to Stiles who wraps it around his waist. As Chris reaches for one for himself Stiles stops him and he takes the towel instead. He quietly rubs the soft towel over Chris’ body, wiping the rivulets of water off of Chris’ rugged physique.

Chris looks at them both in the mirror, watches the concentration on Stiles’ face as he strokes and swipes the towel over the moisture. They catch each other’s gaze and hold it. Stiles steps closer to Chris’ back and slowly brings his towel-covered hand down towards where Chris’ half hard cock is laying underneath the crest of pubic hair. His dick looks smaller when it’s soft, he hangs a little to the left and his foreskin curls thickly over the head. Stiles rubs the cloth down the length causing Chris to draw in a sharp breath and he cups Chris’ balls gently in his hand.

“You are so fucking hot Chris, do you have any idea what you do to me? So strong and confident, watching you fight, fuck. It makes me hard every time I see you.” Stiles places a kiss on the delicate skin just under Chris’ right ear, the older man keens and stretches his neck away giving Stiles more access to his throat.

“Can we, um, can we go to bed?” Chris trains his eyes back onto Stiles, the teen is blushing and not looking at Chris’ face.

“Yeah we can do that, why are you so embarrassed about asking?” Chris enquires.

“Um, I um, well I wasn’t sure if you just wanted to you know fuck around, I didn’t know if you’d want to just umm cuddle I guess?” Stiles once again looks impossibly awkward and adorable at the same time. Chris resists the temptation to tease him; instead he just pulls the blushing boy into his bedroom.

Once they reach the bed Chris takes Stiles head into his hands and kisses him. The kiss is passionate and deep, both men lost in it for a few minutes, lost in the taste and sounds of each other. Stiles can feel himself hardened under his towel so he pulls away. He smiles up at Chris.

“You look so beautiful when you blush Stiles.”

Chris pulls the towel away from Stiles’ waist before tugging him under the covers. It’s only seven thirty in the evening, but neither man could care less about the time as Chris draws Stiles into his arms. He positions them so that Stiles’ head is resting against his chest just above his right pectoral, Chris wraps both his arms around Stiles’ shoulders and pulls him in close. He places a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head and takes a couple of deep breaths against his damp clean hair.

“Sorry I was so rough with you early, I um, I can’t help myself with you. It’s like you flip a switch.” Chris mumbles into Stiles hair.

“No Chris please, please don’t apologize, I like it, I like the way it makes me feel when you do that, I trust you, I want it.”

Stiles turns he head upwards so he can look into Chris’ eyes.

“I need it.”

He leans up to place a chaste kiss onto the older man’s mouth.

“Me too baby, me too.”

[Part Three...](http://caoscalmo.livejournal.com/7772.html)  



	3. Seeking Comfort Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is just a tad lost post kanima adventures and could do with a friend. Mr Argent has some unresolved issues, they meet somewhere in the middle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This again has sort of just grown and grown, I think I might take a little break from it after I've posted what I've written so far and maybe write a little SPN smut or something. I'm thinking this story might end up being a little plottier than I usually attempt, not sure where it's going at the moment but it's all very cathartic so I'll carry on a little while longer...

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part Three  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent, Scott/Alison mentioned, Derek/Stiles suggested, Chris/OMC  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Summary:** Stiles is just a tad lost post kanima adventures and could do with a friend. Mr Argent has some unresolved issues, they meet somewhere in the middle.  
 **Author notes:** This again has sort of just grown and grown, I think I might take a little break from it after I've posted what I've written so far and maybe write a little SPN smut or something. I'm thinking this story might end up being a little plottier than I usually attempt, not sure where it's going at the moment but it's all very cathartic so I'll carry on a little while longer...

\---  
  


Chris wakes up early the next morning, he judges by the light filtering through the window that it can’t be any later than six at the most. Stiles snuffles a little next to him before turning over in his sleep and burying his head into the side of Chris’ chest. The teen’s warm breath tickles at his skin, he gazes down at the boy and enjoys being able to look in detail at him without Stiles getting shy or flustered. Stiles is so beautiful; in sleep his features are relaxed and his face loses that constant hyperactive tension. His jaw is a little softer and his cheeks seem a little flushed. Chris shifts a sitting up and pulling Stiles with him, he doesn’t wake the heavy sleeper, Stiles merely flinches then settles further across Chris’ chest. Now Stiles chest is against Chris’ rib cage and the older man can feel the steady thump of Stiles’ heart beat, out of everything they’ve done together this to him feels the most intimate, the most private.

He runs his fingers lightly through Stiles’ hair before tracing a fingertip along the soft skin on Stiles’ throat. He really is handsome, Chris loses track of how long he watches the boy twitch and mumble in his sleep, he revels in the feeling of the boy’s chest rising and falling against his side. It never felt like this with Victoria, it never felt so bare, so honest. Victoria always had her own agenda and Chris did too, that he supposes is why they worked so well together. But this thing with Stiles’, this thing that all his family, both dead and alive, would frown upon and hate him for; it feels like the most genuine and simple thing in his life.

Stiles slowly stirs from his slumber, he ducks his head under Chris’ arm.

“Whatsthetime?” He slurs out.

“Ha, um…” Chris reaches for his phone, “Just a little after seven.”

Stiles’ head pulls out from under Chris, “Oh fuck I need to get dressed and get ready for class, grrrrrr I don’t want to go. I want to stay here with you.” Stiles rests his chin between Chris’ pectorals and pushes his lower lip out into a pout. Chris lets out a gleeful laugh.

“That is a look that has been well practiced and I should imagine used to great effect many a time. Hummm you’d rather stay here with me, what do I get out of this other than your wonderful company of course.” Chris idly lets his fingers trace the nubs of Stiles’ spine as he teases the younger man.

“Well…” Stiles meets Chris’ gaze. “I’ve been told by a few of my recently acquired gay friends that I have a fuckable little ass, apparently according to them I scream virgin, tight and twink, but no one’s ever, I’ve never um, so that’s just a rumor just a theory they have…’ Stiles’ cheeks burn up with a mix of embarrassment and lust, “I guess maybe if I were to stay here with you we could try that out, or you know I could just get up now and go to school.”

Chris shifts a little, lets the jolt of desire flush through his body.

“Humm I guess that could be a possibility, I mean for scientific purposes only of course, we could experiment with that theory um, strictly educational.”

Stiles lets his hand run down the Chris’ torso and dip under the light cotton bed sheet. He pumps a couple of times on Chris’ cock; the older man arches into his touch.

“Oh fuck Stiles, the things you make me want, fuck…want you baby so much, so fucking beautiful.”

Stiles twists his body so that his mouth just reaches the tip of Chris’ cock; the teen licks at the slit as his hand pumps and tugs on the hot, stiff length. Chris thrusts up trying to get more of his dick between Stiles’ soft lips.

“Na, na, na patience old man.” Stiles teases, before sucking gently on the head. He lets his tongue swirl and play with the sensitive bundle of nerves and he listens to Chris moan and whimper at the sensation.

“Fucking tease, oh fuck there oh god keep doing that baby, ahhh fuck harder, pull harder. Your fucking mouth baby.” Stiles fists Chris’ cock lazily, he holds his mouth open in an ‘O’ and lets each thrust of his fist kiss the tip against his lips. When Stiles feels Chris’ body tighten up slightly he lets his long graceful fingers graze and caress Chris’ taut ball sac.

“Oh shit I’m close Stiles…so close…”

Stiles leans down to suck once more at the head as his fists pulls vigorously at Chris’ dick. A thick spurt of come lands on Stiles’ tongue and the teen pulls away to let the rest of Chris’ load land in his open mouth and on his chin.

“Oh shit, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Chris pants out.

Stiles softly caresses Chris through the aftershocks that are shuddering over his body. Once he feels the older man relax he pushes himself up onto his hands so his body is direct over Chris’.

“That was fucking hot, I like you like this, all sleepy, letting me take care of you.”

“Ummm, I liked it too.” Chris smiles up at Stiles as he uses his thumb to push the remaining come up and between Stiles lips. Stiles sucks Chris’ thumb into his mouth and lets his tongue play for a few seconds then lets the older man clean him of all traces.

Chris gestures down to Stiles crotch, “You want me to um?”

Stiles blushes a little, “Um no actually apparently I have a bit of a thing for facial, I um I already came, sorry about your sheets.”

Chris doesn’t respond just pulls Stiles down on to him and kisses him roughly.

“So fucking hot Stiles jesus!”

-

They are content to languidly make out for a while, before Stiles’ phone erupts with his morning alarm.

“Shit, shit, where did my jeans go?”

“Umm bathroom I think.”

Stiles staggers to the bathroom to retrieve the noisy phone. He walks back in unashamed of his nakedness, checking his messages. Chris lets his gaze run over the length of the teen nubile body. Without looking up Stiles quips, “Like what you see old man?”

“Humm I did until it opened it’s mouth.”

“Hey, it? Rude!”

“What about old man, you don’t think I feel perverted enough as it is?” Chris says trying to sound casual and teasing but falling just short of convincing.

“Maybe I like that you’re older than me, and maybe I like the way it makes me feel calling you old man, you know I don’t think you’re old though right we’ve been over this.”

Stiles straddles Chris’s now seated form, resting his butt against Chris’ covered thighs. He leans forward to place a kiss on Chris’ lips then moves to his neck and down his throat.

“Like that you take care of me, use me like I need it, like that you have experience, you’re so strong and confident, so sexy how sure of yourself you are, fuck.”

Chris arches his neck, “Fuck I wish that were true baby, wish I could see myself like that.” He lets his hands come down and grip Stiles’ ass teasing and pulling at the teen’s cheeks. Then he abruptly hoists the slighter mans body off of his thighs.

“If you don’t stop that now I’ll never let you stop, I have to phone the school I guess let them know you won’t be in?”

“Ummm, that means I can stay in your bed all day, play hooky?” Stiles grins at Chris as he leaves the bed.

“God help me boy, you are going to be the death of me. Will your father have been home?”

Stiles crawls back under the sheet before answering.

“I doubt it, I’ll drop him a text just in case. He won’t mind, I um, I, because of the medication I’m on I get these migraines a lot so I’ll just tell him I have one of those, not that he’ll be home anyway.” A frown momentarily trips across Stiles’ face, Chris leans down and kisses the boys forehead.

“He loves you, you know that right, he’s just busy baby.”

“Yeah I guess, it’s just so different now, everything’s so different.”

“That’s life though, shit changes everyday, some things change for the better though eh?” Chris says with a shy smile on his lips. Stiles looks up at him and mirrors the smile and kisses Chris’ lips firmly.

“Oh definitely for the better.”

Chris picks up his phone and walks out of the bedroom, Stiles watches as the older man’s firm ass clenches and flexes with each step. Fuck, Chris is a ridiculously attractive man. Shaking his head of those lusty thoughts Stiles quickly taps out a brief message to his Dad, he figures his Dad is at the station as there were no ‘Where the hell are you?’ messages from him. A minute later his phone bleeps a quick reply. “Thanks for letting me know son. Maybe get some fresh air later you know that helps, let me know if you need anything D x.”

Stiles feels momentarily guilty about lying to his father, but then a gloriously naked Chris Argent pads softly back into the bedroom and any guilt flies from his mind.

“So a whole day of freedom young man, what shall we do first?”

Before he can answer Stiles’ stomach rumbles loudly.

“Ha, well there we go then, breakfast in bed it is. Any requests?”

“Oh man I’ve always wanted to have a breakfast in bed with my boyf…with someone else.” Stiles stumbles and blushes over his slip.

“Ahem, well come on then lets go get some breakfast and we can have whatever we want today.” Chris takes hold of Stiles pulling him into his body; they line up perfectly the same height and frame, though Chris is all lithe, sinewy muscle whereas Stiles is softly defined skin and bones.

“Love how you feel against me, so soft, your skin is so soft.” Chris places a kiss on Stiles’ shoulder as his hands runs up and down Stiles’ sides.

“Ummmm” Stiles’ lets out a contented little moan.

-

They prepare breakfast together, stood stark naked in Chris’ kitchen making French toast and eggs. Stiles pours out some orange juice as Chris loads up the tray. Once settled back against the fluffed up pillows Stiles looks over at Chris and smiles the most beautiful wide open smile Chris has ever seen.

“It’s just a little breakfast Stiles.” Chris says dismissively but the huge smile dancing across his lips tells the truth. They chatter and ramble on between mouthfuls of eggs and sips of coffee. Chris offers up a forkful of syrupy toast to Stiles and the teen opens wide for the older man. Once they’ve cleared the tray and placed it down on the floor, Chris lies back and lets out a satisfied groan.

“Oh man I haven’t eaten that much for breakfast in years.”

“Seriously? Oh wow I have pancakes and eggs and French toast at least once a week, but it’s never as good as that, must be the company or something.” Stiles says with a smirk.

“Maybe or it could be my sorely underused French toast skills.” Chris retorts. Stiles let out a little snigger as he lays his head against Chris shoulder.

“Hey I think you’ll find I mixed the batter you just fried, it’s all in the batter baby.”

“Whatever fine, it was a damn good breakfast, definitely beats my usual muesli and coffee.”

Stiles becomes still against Chris and silence fills the air for a few seconds.

“Stiles?” Chris asks warily.

“Should it feel this normal? I mean I’m lying here naked with one of my closest friends Dad and I feel completely at ease. Shouldn’t I be freaking out about this?”

Chris doesn’t reply straight away instead he lets the hand wrapped around the teen stroke gently at Stiles’ exposed hip.

“Um I honestly don’t know Stiles, maybe we should be. Maybe we should pretend we feel bad about this, we could freak out, but um, I, um, I feel the same way.” Chris clears his throat, the vibrations of it judder through Stiles’ ear.

“I could um, waking up with you was perfect Stiles, I would consider myself a very lucky man if I could wake up next you everyday.”

Stiles doesn’t reply he simply pulls Chris hand over towards him and laces their fingers together coming to rest upon Chris’ taut, flat belly.

“This is simple, this is good, let’s just enjoy it. I don’t want to feel bad about you Chris.”

Chris leans his head down onto the top of Stiles’. He softly places a kiss into Stiles’ hair and holds it there before nestling his nose against the teen’s scalp.

“Me too, never want to feel bad about you, about this.”

“Good.”

Neither of them says anything for a good thirty minutes or so after their frank admission; they are both content to just relax in each other warmth and let their minds wander. Occasionally Chris will press or rub the pad of his thumb against Stiles’ hip bone and Stiles will pull and flex his fingers interlaced with Chris’.

Chris’ cell phone buzzes on the bedside table, but they both ignore it, though it does act as a jolt back into the real world.

“What should you be doing today Mr. Argent, apart from leading a young and impressionable boy astray?”

Chris snorts against Stiles’ head.

“Ha, I sometimes wonder if you are the one leading me, but that’s another story. Um Friday’s I usually try to make a few calls, round up the weekly news from other hunters. But believe it or not hunting doesn’t actually pay that well so I also have another job; I write. I’m currently writing a book on mythology and folklore with a Professor at Standford.”

“Oh wow actually I never really thought about how you made a living, I just assumed you had buckets of money from somewhere or I dunno there was a secret hunters agency run by the government that paid you handsomely.”

“Ha that would be great! I um well I do have money, my father’s family have been hunters from centuries and well years back hunters did get paid or they came into money in less than legal ways. My father’s family was always careful with their money invested legally and bought property. I didn’t want to have to rely on that money though, I wanted to earn my own, be able to survive without him. Alison will inherit the bulk of it now he’s dead, I don’t want it any of it, so I write and I try to offer my somewhat dubious knowledge to whomever needs it.”

Stiles smiles into Chris’ chest, he feels a ridiculous sense of pride that Chris is such a good man, so honest and hardworking, it makes him so much more attractive to Stiles.

“I like that, that you wanted to step away from the family and well it’s kinda hot the whole brilliant writer, badass hunter alter egos.”

“Stiles not everything is a comic book you know, and I’m hardly a brilliant writer, I like knowledge and I like to read. I read a lot and when Alison was a baby I put myself through college got my degree then when she was in elementary school I got my Masters, I didn’t want to be just another Argent hunter, I wanted something more I guess.”

It’s the most words Stiles has ever heard Chris speak, he sounds so candid, like he’s saying this aloud for the first time, talking about himself for the first time.

“Enough about that though, it’s boring. Tell me about what you want to be, what you want to do with your life when you grow up. Christ, how young are you Stiles, jesus when you grow up?!?” Chris laughs at the absurdity of that sentence.

“I don’t feel that young, when I see people my age I can’t relate to them at all. They just don’t get it, they don’t know what it’s like.” Stiles’ voice cracks a little and without asking Chris realizes he’s talking about his mother dying and living all these years without her.

“Yeah I forget how much you’ve been through, I’m sorry I said that.”

“No, no it’s ok honestly, I just I don’t really talk about her much or myself that much really, it’s just easier. Plus people just laugh at happy, dorky Stiles, they don’t want to hear about _that_ Stiles, you know?”

“I understand, but honestly Stiles I want to know everything, you are not like anyone I’ve ever experienced before.” Chris pulls Stiles hand to his mouth and kisses the back of his knuckles.

“Oh yeah!? Are you experienced Chris? How many men have you slept with?” Stiles looks up at Chris with a mischievous grin and waggles his eyebrows. Chris reads the abrupt change of subject for what it is and goes along with Stiles.

“Ha actually um I’ve only ever slept with one other man, I’ve um fooled around a little, but I met Victoria when I was twenty-one and I um, I don’t know a few years later I decided that I needed to stop thinking about men. She never knew actually, about that side of me.”

“Wow that’s um that’s kind of surprising, I mean are you bi or what?”

“Um yeah I guess I’d say bi, I did love Victoria Stiles, she was my wife and I tried to be the best husband I could be. Being gay wasn’t acceptable, it wasn’t an option, not with my father. He found me and a boy from school. I ah, I was sixteen and hated hunting, I didn’t want to be a hunter, hated everything about the life, I grew my hair out and listened to the Beatles, the Beach Boys, the Grateful Dead, anything I knew would piss him off. Then I met this guy at school and he asked me if I’d ever thought about kissing a boy and I punched him in the face, but privately it was like a spark had lit up in my brain or well my cock, I suddenly realized what I wanted, whay I had felt so different most of my life. I was awful to him though, I was still in denial, I knew how my father felt about fags, so I would let this poor guy suck my cock but I would never touch him and if he ever went to kiss me I’d push him away. He would come and suck me off everyday after school either in the school library or this one goddamn time in my bedroom. I didn’t think my father was home so I was being a little louder than usual, fuck I loved seeing this guy on his knees for me, I felt so fucking powerful. Anyway my father came storming in and saw this skinny little guy sucking away between my legs. We both froze and just stared at each other, then Gerard storms out of my room gets a fucking sawn off shot gun and threatens to shot the poor kid. Jesus Christ I’ve never seen someone run so fast. Part of me thought it was hilarious and then I saw my father’s face, fuck I can still see it.” Chris runs a hand along Stiles’ arm.

“He couldn’t hit me because by then we were a pretty even match, I hated the hunting but I still trained everyday. I was just as strong as him, but well he had some pretty harsh words to say and the disgust in his voice, fuck, yeah it wasn’t a good day. We never spoke about it again, it was never mentioned, once I married Victoria I guess that was enough for him, for all intents and purposely I was a strong, heterosexual hunter, someone to make their father proud.”

Stiles kisses Chris’ chest scatters kisses over his collarbone and neck.

“You’re the first man I’ve wanted in a long time Stiles, the first man I’ve let myself want.”

“What was the other guy like?” Stiles mumbles against the side of Chris’ throat.

“Sorry forget I asked it’s none of my business.” He quickly adds when Chris seems reluctant to answer.

“No, no it’s ok, I feel this need to tell you everything, confess all my sins.” Chris says with a hollow sounding chuckle.

“It’s just it won’t make me look good, what I did, it wasn’t right and I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

“It’s ok, I won’t judge you Chris, I would never judge you.” Stiles leans back to look into Chris’ eyes as he says it, then he covers Chris’ lips with his own. He deepens the kiss, letting his tongue roam around Chris’ mouth briefly before pulling away. Chris adorably follows the direction of Stiles’ mouth; lips still pursed and eyes closed.

“Later, I promise, but I want to hear about him. I want to know who else got to know this side of you.”

“Ok, ok.” Chris shifts a little, pulling himself and Stiles a little more upright. He takes a full, deep breath.

“Well as I said I put myself through college when Alison was a baby, she was born when I was twenty-four, I got into Stanford just after I turned twenty-five. He um, he was in my English class, the first moment I saw him I knew I should stay well away, but you know how that usually turns out. His name was Charlie; he was from London and had this ludicrous accent. He was tall, had this tuft of black hair that always looked like he’d just fallen out of bed, his eyes were green and he smoked these little brown rolled up cigarettes.” Chris smiles at the memory.

“At the end of our first lecture he came over to me and asks if I took notes as he only had one pen with him and it had broken. I was so fucking nervous, I’d spent most of the hour surreptitiously watching him and trying not to get a hard on right there in class, I lied to him said I had taken notes and he could copy them. We arrange to meet in the library after our last lecture of the day. Fuck, he was so self-assured and beautiful, I thought he was the most fascinating person I’d ever met. After college he sat down opposite me and declared himself a complete liar, said he needed an opener as he had no friends and I was the only one in the class who looked like I knew how to drink and could in fact legally go for a drink. So from there we went straight to the nearest bar, he drank scotch neat which I’d only ever seen much older men do, and because he was twenty-two and drinking neat scotch I thought he was just so fucking sophisticated, Christ I realize now I never stood a chance. So we get into it, I match him drink for drink, he’s telling me stories of going to Eton with Lords and Princes, how his family dates back to Saxon times and has acres of land in the North of England. His father was Earl of something or other, I just ate it all up man, he was so completely different to anything and anyone I had ever met before. A couple of hours into our drinking session he leans over and says directly into my ear that when he first saw me he’d not only thought I looked like a man who knew how to drink but that I looked like a man who knew how to fuck. Right there in this crowded straight-laced office workers bar Charlie shoves his hand down my pants and starts to jerk me off. Fuck Stiles, I never ever meant to cheat on Victoria, it wasn’t even a possibility I had even contemplated, I loved her and Alison, I would’ve give my life for either of them, but I just couldn’t stop myself. Years of want and desire and fucking telling myself I wasn’t allowed this just caved in.”

Chris scrubs a hand over his face and blows out a shaky breath.

Stiles raises himself up and effectively swaps positions with Chris, almost cradling the older man against his chest.

“It’s ok Chris, I don’t blame you and I told you I’ll never judge you. Promise.”

Chris rubs his cheek against Stiles’ chest, let the beat of Stiles’ heart and the rising and falling of his chest calm him down.

“Thank you, it means so much, I um, I’ve never told anyone about him before.”

For a few minutes they lay there quietly, Stiles’ absentmindedly rubs his fingers back and forth over Chris’ ribs.

“What happened, you can’t leave out the sordid details?”  
  


  



	4. Seeking Comfort Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is just a tad lost post kanima adventures and could do with a friend. Mr Argent has some unresolved issues, they meet somewhere in the middle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On with more porn, that's all really...

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part Four  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent, Scott/Alison mentioned, Derek/Stiles suggested, Chris/OMC  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Summary:** Stiles is just a tad lost post kanima adventures and could do with a friend. Mr Argent has some unresolved issues, they meet somewhere in the middle.  
 **Author notes:** On with more porn, that's all really...  
\---  
  


“Ha, oh god, it was just, fuck Stiles, it was intense. I’d only ever let that kid suck me off before and although I’d obviously been with Victoria I’d never really let myself imagine actually sleeping with a guy. Charlie was so sexual though, once he’d realized I wasn’t going to punch him for being gay he just switched. So he’s jerking me off muttering filth into my ear about what he wants to do and where and how, then he just stands up and walks out of the door, casual as fuck looking over his shoulder with this heat in his eyes. I nearly fucking fell over my goddamn pants trying to chase after him. We went back to his dorm room, he kicked out his geeky little Asian kid he’d been roomed with, just looked at him and told him to fuck off, he had company. I just stood behind him in disbelief. It worked though that Asian kid was gone before I’d even step through the door. As soon as we were alone he takes off his top and just pushes me onto the bed. I was freaking out, though the alcohol had taken the edge off I was still essentially a virgin in all things anal. But whilst I’m having this freak out he’s stripped naked and had shoved two fingers up his ass, or arse as he would say. He straddles my lap and tells me how he wants me to fuck him and I better not let him down; how he’d been imagining how my cock would feel up his arse all afternoon.”

“Oh man, he sounds great, intense but great. Poor baby though, you performed well I hope?” Stiles says.

“Ha, yeah I rose to the occasion, he liked it rough and, well, I had years of repression and desire on my side, it was pretty fucking hot. We um, we were together I guess you’d say for six months. I told him about Victoria and Alison the next time I saw him; figured once he knew that would be the end of it. He wasn’t particularly pleased at the news, but said he didn’t want anything serious so as long as we could fuck regularly he didn’t mind. But um, it um, I fell in love I guess, but I knew it could never be. I never told him how I felt, but I think he knew, I started to stay longer and longer in his room and he would get restless and eventually after we’d fuck he say he had to go somewhere, in the most polite British way he’d basically throw me out.”

Chris is quiet for a minute, lost in the memory. Stiles just continues to caress Chris’ side and scratch his fingers through his scalp.

“Victoria was the one who snapped me out of it, she um, she found a condom in my jean pocket. I was careless, stupid in love and I’d forgotten it was even there and after being married for three years with a two-year-old child condoms weren’t even a part of our sex life anymore. She never knew is who it was, or that he was a man, she just told me to end it or she would take Alison and I would never see her again. So I transferred, move to UCLA and I never saw him again. He never tried to contact me so I guess it was meant to end when it did.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything just lets Chris have a moment, he holds the older man and thinks about how different their lives have been.

“You know now when I think about it I know it wasn’t love, not really, infatuation more like. Charlie was living the life I wanted to live, he drank and smoked he fucked around and didn’t have a care in the world. I had a wife, child, and the family heritage to live up to, not to mention a mortgage to pay. He offered me an escape I didn’t even realize I was looking for. After we’d moved I never so much as let my eyes linger on a man for too long, I took extra classes, worked at a bookshop and upped my training, I took Alison to pre-school and then to school, I did everything to occupy my time, to distract myself.”

“Until I came along I guess.” Stiles adds a little awkwardly, almost guiltily.

“No Stiles, it’s not like that. After a few years I didn’t even feel like I was pretending anymore, my life was full. Victoria and I got on well, though it was increasingly more of a friendship than a relationship, Alison was thriving and I loved every second I got with my little girl. But when Alison turned thirteen I realized that maybe I didn’t have to hold myself back in the same way.”

Chris lets out a sort of half sob, half chuckle type noise and scratches nervously at the back of his neck.

“Jesus Stiles, what do you do to me you’re making me spill all my goddamn darkest, deepest secrets.”

“Sorry I guess? You don’t have to tell me though, if you don’t want to.”

“No, no that’s the problem I _do_ want to tell you, I want to be honest with you.”

They turn to each other and share a quick kiss.

“So Alison turned thirteen, she wasn’t around as much. I guess, my focus on being this perfect father shifted. She didn’t need me to be that. Victoria and I by that stage were no longer having sex; we’d never spoken about it really. There would be the occasional jibe on her part, but as I said we’d become more like friends than lovers. I’d turned to, ah, outside sources to get my pleasure shall we say mostly online and magazines, and I guess she had too. I found myself enjoying checking out men again, back in our old town there were a couple of notorious gay districts, I’d allow myself an afternoon there once in a while. I never did anything, I’d get chatted up and I’d flirt but that was it. Then eighteen months ago you showed up at my daughter’s dopey boyfriend’s side and I couldn’t even remember the faces of any other man I’d ever found attractive.”

“What!?! Are you being serious you noticed me all that time ago?”

“Yes Stiles I wasn’t lying when I said you were an attractive man. I hated myself for it though, I’d spent the last few years actually allowing myself to appreciate men and look at men in a sexual way and then you turn up, all of fucking fifteen years old. Jesus I nearly lost it over you I felt like a freaking pedophile, you and your fucking smart comments and your fucking mouth Stiles, shit.”

Stiles takes a few seconds to let that sink in, Chris had wanted him since they’d first met and Stiles had been oblivious.

“Fuck, I mean, seriously I feel like I’ve wasted a lot of time here!” Stiles jokes.

“Ha, oh please I think you only stopped calling me Mr. Argent two weeks ago.”

“Oh Chris you have no idea. Scott still takes the piss because of, as he calls it, ‘My giant gay crush on Alison’s hot older brother.’ When you’d first moved to town and Scott was in love with Alison within like five minutes, I accidentally let slip that I’d seen you drop her off at school and I’d casually enquired as to whether Alison’s older brother was single. So he asks Alison, not as bluntly as that, but when he found out you were her father, fuck, he nearly wet himself, I on the other hand freaked out. Every time I saw you or Mrs. Argent I felt so damn guilty and shameful. Jesus how ridiculous is this whole situation.”

“I’m not so sure ridiculous is the right word for it.”

“Humm maybe not. So you’ve wanted a piece of this ass since I was fifteen, dude you dirty old man!”

“Stiles!” Chris growls in warning.

“What Chris just stating a fact that from the moment you saw my fine, nubile tight ass you’ve wanted to fuck it!”

Chris twists round and attempts to smother Stiles’ mouth, but the teen leaps from the bed and smirks at Chris.

“Come on old man you’ve gotta be quicker than that, to catch a piece of this.” Stiles sticks his butt out to the side and slaps his hand against it.

“Oh now you’re on, I may be older than you but I’m stronger and fitter.” Chris dives off the bed towards the boy. Stiles lets out a decidedly unmanly yelp and Chris’ body collides with his. He falls to the floor with a thud, the older man straddles across his thighs, his large hands wrapped around both wrists, holding them above Stiles’ head. Chris smirks down at the captured boy.

“You were saying.”

Though Stiles doesn’t reply he simply shifts his hips up, rubbing his rapidly filling cock against Chris’.

“Ahhhh fuck.” Chris leans his head back and arches his spine, thrusting forward to meet Stiles’ movements.

“God I want you so much Chris, please want you to fuck me, be my first.”

Chris opens his eyes and looks down at Stiles, he leans forward and places a hot open mouth kiss onto his lover. In spite of all the teasing, flirting and dirty talk, Chris knows now he won’t sleep with Stiles today or in fact anytime soon, he knows he cannot take that final step with Stiles not while he’s still seventeen. Instead to telling Stiles this Chris decides it would be easier to just distract the teen the best way he knows how.

“Don’t move your hands, I want them to stay up here ok.” Chris slowly lets go of his wrists and gives Stiles a look of warning, before he shifts his body down Stiles’. Once the older man is positioned over the prone boy’s groin he takes a minute to glance up along at the expanse of flesh before him. Stiles twitches and flinches under the attention, Chris just smiles at him before lowering his mouth to the teen’s rigid cock.

Stiles’ has never been given head before and the sensation of Chris’ more than able mouth sucking on his cock causes Stiles’ eyes to roll into the back of his head and his teeth to bite down on his lower lip. A groan erupts from somewhere in Stiles’ chest and he fights with himself to hold his arms up and away from Chris’ bobbing head. Stiles’ hips thrust up involuntarily, seeking more of Chris’ mouth.

“Down boy, have a little patience.” The older man grins.

“Chrisssssss.” Is all Stiles can hiss out.

Chris uses his hand to pump at Stiles’ cock, licking his tongue over the shiny, red head; he plays with the slit and enjoys the whimpers he’s managing to pull from the boy.

“So fucking hot spread out for me like this, you’re my boy aren’t you Stiles? My good perfect boy?”

“Yesssss, fuck yes.”

“Now be a good boy and don’t thrust ok, I’m gonna deep throat you now but if you thrust I’ll pull off and you won’t be allowed to come, understand me?”

“Arghhhh, shit, shit yes ok, please.” Stiles squirms underneath Chris’ weight, his words searing into Stiles’ mind like burns.

Chris ducks back down and lets the eight thick inches slide into his mouth as he relaxes his throat. Stiles pants out and breathes heavily through his nose attempting to hold himself down. When Chris squeezes the muscles in his throat Stiles cock pulses within his mouth and Chris wetly pulls off the teen. Sitting back on his haunches Chris tugs strongly at Stiles’ purpling cock. When Stiles lets out a moan and Chris feels the boy’s sac tighten he slides his finger lower to rub gently over Stiles’ pucker. Stiles’ whole body seizes up off the floor as he comes forcefully all over his stomach and chest.

“Good boy Stiles, good boy.” Chris genty strokes Stiles until his cock goes limp in his fist.

“Stay there.” Chris demands, though Stiles couldn’t move even if he wanted to, his body completely lax and his mind like jello.

Chris pushes off of the boy’s body and walks over to the dresser, when he comes back he has a small digital camera in his hand.

“Chris?” Stiles whines.

“Shhh, just need to remember you like this.” The shutter clicks a couple of times as Chris snaps pictures of Stiles’ spread out, spent body.

“So fucking beautiful like this.” Chris goes back down on his knees, though this time straddling slighter higher up Stiles’ body. A red light flickers to life on the camera and Stiles can hear the sound of the lens zooming into his face.

“Talk to me baby, tell me a fantasy, one of your favorites.” Stiles rolls his head to one side trying to avoid looking directly at the camera, but Chris reaches out and grips Stiles chin turning his head back. Stiles lets his arms, still resting above his head, relax and stares down the lens.

“Um, since we went to the firing range I’ve um, I’ve been imaging you ahh, you with a gun.” Stiles swallows loudly, his eyes skittle down to where Chris is tugging on his own cock.

“Errr, you’ve got this gun in your hand and I don’t know if it’s loaded or not, but you push it between my lips and make me suck on it and lick at the barrel. I’m so fucking hard and you pull away and make me strip. Then you tell me to bend over that old desk,” Chris grunts at the visual and pulls the lens back so he gets the tip of his cock into the shot with Stiles chest and face.

“Go on…what happens next.” Chris’ voice sounds wrecked an octave lower than usual.

“You, ah, you tell me to hold my ass cheeks apart and to lay my face down against the surface of the desk. Then er, you tease me with the tip to the gun, you run it over my, my hole and the metal feels so cold. You ask me which I want more to fuck me open, your cock or your gun.” Stiles’ spent cock twitches pathetically against his thigh and Chris feels the tingling start of his orgasm in the base of his spine.

“Yeah, yeah which do you choose?” Chris asks fisting and squeezing his length.

“I, uh, I can’t speak I just let out a moan and you tell me you’ll decide for me instead, and then I feel the cold, wet tip of the gun against the back of my neck as you hold me down and fuck your cock up into me.”

Chris lets out a moan as his cock erupts adding to the cooling come already painted over Stiles’ chest, and a few drops land on his face and neck. Stiles just closes his eyes and whimpers out of pleasure at the sensation.

When Chris’ brain comes back to life he presses the stop button on the camera and it lands to the floor near Stiles’ feet with a light klunk. The older man is still slightly out of breath; he waits a few seconds to catch it before leaning over onto hands and knees and pressing down to meet Stiles’ lips. They kiss passionately for a few moments. Stiles runs his hands up Chris’ back and pulls him flush against his own body. They both let out a chuckle as the sticky cooling mess spreads between their chest and stomachs.

“Now you’re just a filthy as me.” Stiles smiles up at the older man. Chris goes to move off the boy, but Stiles’ holds him in place.

“I was going to get a cloth to clean us up Stiles.” Chris mumbles.

“Nah don’t, stay with me just for a few minutes, like you like this our spunk mixed up between us. I like the way you laugh and smile after you’ve done dirty, filthy things to me.” Stiles blushes before drawing Chris’ mouth back to his. As they make out Stiles rolls them over so they are both on their sides, he slides his leg between Chris’ warm thighs and feels Chris’ soft cock nestle against him. He rubs gently at it.

“Ahh fuck, fuck be careful s’sensitive still.”

Stiles fakes innocence looking at Chris with hooded eyes. “Sorry, just like your cock, love how different it looks when it’s hard and when it’s soft. I like the way it feels, fuck Chris.” Stiles closes his eyes and ducks his head into the crock of Chris’ neck. He kisses and bites lightly at the rough, stubbled skin there.

“Arghhh, unffff, oh Stiles man seriously are you trying to kill me, I just came my dick can’t get hard again, I’m 42 not 22.”

Stiles actually lets out a giggle, the vibrations of it rumble against Chris’ throat, coaxing him to join in. A sort of exhausted, manic laughter bursts out of both men, they roll apart both looking up at the ceiling though their arms are still intertwined beneath their bodies.

“Come on lets get cleaned up and get something to eat I’m starving.” Chris sits up and slaps a hand playfully onto Stiles’ flat stomach.

“Ok, can we order pizza, I know Friday’s are usually Thai but I need some serious carbs man, you wore me out and I want to go several more rounds before the morning.”

“Ha, ok pizza and maybe a movie, let this old man recover a little first hey?!”

Chris pulls Stiles into his body, laying an arm over his shoulders; then places a kiss into Stiles’ hair before walking them before into the bathroom.  
  
[Part Five...](http://caoscalmo.livejournal.com/8234.html)

  



	5. Seeking Comfort Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have a weekend alone, truths and confessions and sexy times lie ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so that's as far as I've written, I went from about 4,000 words to 30,000 in little over three days, god bless shitty weather!

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part Five  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent, Scott/Alison mentioned, Derek/Stiles suggested, Chris/OMC  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Summary:** The boys have a weekend alone, truths and confessions and sexy times lie ahead.  
 **Author notes:** Ok so that's as far as I've written, I went from about 4,000 words to 30,000 in little over three days, god bless shitty weather!  
\---  
  


Alison doesn’t come home all weekend, and Sheriff Stilinski has to go into the city for some case, so both men decide to spend the weekend together.

On Saturday they go out of town on a ninety-minute ride to a weapons shop Chris wants to check out and Stiles’ watches him handle gun after gun. When the shop assistant hands Chris a particularly phallic looking pistol Stiles has to walk outside for a moment alone. When he re-enters the shop Chris looks over and smirks at him whilst running his fingers teasingly along the slide, pretending he’s checking out the barrel. Stiles blows him as soon as they hit the freeway on their way home.

-

Stiles demands they go out to the coast on Sunday, the drive takes them a good three hours, but it’s fun; they chatter and play stupid games that Stiles makes up. They stop at gas stations and get each other off in dingy looking bathroom stalls. Chris buys a pack of Red Vines for Stiles to suck on and spends most of the last leg of their journey painfully hard. When they finally get to the beach it’s rainy and cold. After playing on the slot machines and arcade games for a couple of hours, they decide to check into the first crappy looking motel they can find.

Stiles tumbles into the room, even the two-minute jog from the parking lot has his shirt clinging to his wiry frame. Chris is plastered equally wet up against his back.

“Jesus Christ, you had to pick the wettest freaking day to go to the seaside Stiles.” Chris teases.

“It was brilliant sunshine when we left home, plus it’s not my fault you wanted to come to Santa Cruz instead of Monterey, I bet in Monterey it’s beautiful sunshine.”

“Shut up boy you’re talking rubbish.” Chris says in a mock stern voice, but as he says it he’s also pulling his damp white v-neck t-shirt over his head and Stiles literally cannot process anything further thought than “Unf, want.”

Before Chris has even tossed the shirt to the floor Stiles is on him, hands roaming over the expanse of flesh and mouth sucking on his hard, pebbled nipples.

“Whoa, whoa, let’s get you out of those wet clothes too, don’t want you getting sick now.” Chris pulls Stiles upright and quietly undresses the younger man.

Once they are both gloriously naked Stiles claims Chris’ mouth in a passionate somewhat hurried kiss.

“Want you to…want you to…fuck me…Chris, please fuck me.” Stiles pants out between kisses.

“Stiles…” Chris’ voice rises in an authoritative tone, “…you’re not ready and I’m not going fuck a seventeen year old boy.”

Stiles pulls away from Chris and falls back onto the bed looking up at the older man with eyes full of disbelief.

“But you…you said you wanted me, you said I made you want to do things to me, don’t you want me?” The look of fear and rejection on Stiles’ face is so genuine and sad that it makes Chris want to give in to whatever he wants, but he can’t Chris is a lot of less than stellar things but fucking Stiles would be a step too far, he has to keep some morals, live by some standards.

Chris folds down onto his knees and places a hand on each of Stiles’ thighs.

“Oh baby you know I want you, Jesus Christ I’ve wanted you for almost two years. Believe me every single day since we started this, ah this thing between us, has been a constant struggle not to just pin you down and fuck you.”

Stiles is looking down at his hands clasped on his lap, he soft cock hidden beneath them.

“Baby look at me.” Chris uses a finger to push at Stiles’ chin. “You already mean too much to me to fuck this up, if anyone found out about us, jesus, I’d be in so much trouble just from the things we’ve already done, but if I fuck you…” Chris swallows down the guilt, “If I fuck you Stiles I would go to jail, your father is the Sheriff, baby, do you have any idea what he could do to me, what trouble I’d be in.”

Stiles blushes trying to keep eye contact with Chris, he hadn’t even thought about the consequences he’s just been so caught up in wanting Chris nothing else mattered.

“Um, I’m sorry I um, I didn’t even realize what it would mean, I just…I can’t think straight when it comes to you Chris.” Stiles scrubs a hand through his hair and shakes out his head.

“Hey, hey it’s ok, honestly I feel the same way, you make me kind of messed up too, in a good way though Stiles.” Chris looks to Stiles and smirks, making the teen smile shyly back. “Look we just have to hold off, once your eighteen we are good. Um that’s if you still want me when you turn eighteen.” Chris ducks his head and rubs distractedly at Stiles’ bare knees with his thumbs.

“Come here you dumb ass, of course I’ll still want you, you freak.” Stiles pulls Chris into his body and clasps his hands together at the back of Chris’ head. He softly kisses at Chris’ mouth, waiting for the older man to open up against him. Chris relaxes into the kiss; he slides his hands along Stiles’ thighs and up the sides of his body before placing his hands firmly under the teen’s ass and hauling him further up the bed. They land back with a thud. Chris recaptures Stiles’ lips between his.

“So what exactly are we allowed to do for the next six months until my birthday.”

“Oh fuck, six months? You couldn’t have been born in November or something, jesus.” Chris dramatically drops his forehead in frustration against the pillow next to Stiles’ head.

“Sorry April baby here…there is other stuff we can do though right, I mean technically the only thing we can’t do is stick your cock up my ass.” Stiles says is so bluntly that Chris can’t help but laugh.

“Yup Stiles that is the only thing we can’t do.”

Chris rolls off of the teen’s body, all the chatter has somewhat dampen the mood and Chris’ previously hard cock has wilted now just resting a little swollen against his groin.

Stiles snuggles into the side of Chris’ naked body.

“We can find other ways to entertain ourselves. I hear backgammon is particularly difficult to learn but once you get it, there’s hours of fun to be had, or maybe crochet, or we could master the fine art of French cookery, soufflés and soups, imagine how good we will be at _things_ in six months.” Stiles rubs his cheek against Chris’ chest.

“You’re ridiculous you know that, totally, wonderfully ridiculous.”

“Ahh that’s what you love about me, though right?”

“Yeah it kinda is, it really is.”

Neither man says anything after that subtle but important admission. The long drive and earlier activities at the gas stations have worn them out. Stiles is the first to fall asleep, the sound of his breathing slowly evens out and as Chris lies there enjoying the warmth of his lover’s body sleep too pulls him under.

-

Stiles wakes four hours later, the late afternoon sky looks gloomy and dark but the rain has finally stopped. He looks over to the red glow of the alarm clock, 5:05pm. They’ll have to get on the road soon, as much as Stiles would like to stay coiled up with Chris he does have to return to school one day.

Chris is still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling with each quiet breath. Stiles carefully, without waking the older man, pulls away from Chris’ body. He needs to pee so he pads as quietly as possible over to the bathroom. Chris hasn’t moved when he’s done, but his cock has started to swell. Stiles smiles to himself and slowly crawls between Chris’ parted thighs.

The younger man mouths at Chris’ cock, letting the appendage thicken slowly in his mouth. He feels Chris start to stir from his sleep above him, so Stiles increases the pressure on Chris’ cock, sucking harder.

“Ummm, Stiles’ what errr, fuck yeah…” Chris mumbles half asleep.

Stiles leans up on to his elbows and begins to fist and tug on Chris’ cock, determined to make the man come before he’s fully awake. As his fist jerks, Stiles drops his lips to kiss and lick at Chris’ sac, sucking each perfect ball into his mouth and rolling the hot weight against his tongue. Chris moans out and spreads his thighs wider giving Stiles more space, he brings the hand not on Chris cock up and against the sensitive skin between Chris’ balls and ass. Stiles gets his finger wet then rubs gently over that hot little area, as he feels Chris’ body start to pull taut he leans up to take Chris’ cock back into his mouth, then to finish the older man off Stiles slides his finger backwards and rubs over Chris’ furled hole.

“Fuckkkkkk me….shit, fuck.” Chris growls out as he empties into Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles pulls himself up the bed and smiles, feeling kind of proud of himself, down at a stated looking Chris.

“Oh jesus, you are getting too goddamn good at that boy.”

-

The rest of the evening is a fairly sedate affair. They stop for dinner about half way home, sharing and passing their food between them, their waitress thinks they are adorable. She gives Chris an exaggerated wink as she leaves the bill and tells him he has a handsome, strapping young son. As they leave the diner Stiles leans into Chris’ side and slides his hand possessively into the ass pocket of Chris’ jeans, then kisses the older man, giving the waitress and other diners a show. As they walk through to doors all they can hear are the guffaws of the waitress and a wolf whistle from one of the old men sat at the counter.

-

Chris pulls up to Stiles’ driveway and puts his car in park.

“So back to reality I guess…um thank you Chris, I had one of the best weekends I think I’ve ever had.” Stiles looks embarrassed by his confession and turns his gaze to his dark and empty house. Chris reaches over and takes one of Stiles’ hands into his own.

“Me too, being with you Stiles is…um, shit, I’m no good with words Stiles, but this,” Chris motions between the two of them, “This feels right.” He leans over and places a chased kiss onto Stiles’ lips. The teen stays there for a moment enjoying the closeness and intimacy the men have shared.

Chris pulls back and coughs awkwardly into his hand.

“Right go now before we get distracted.”

Stiles reluctantly walks away from the car and into his house. Chris waits for the light to go on before hastily pulling away from the sidewalk.  
  
[Part Six...](http://caoscalmo.livejournal.com/8712.html)

  



	6. Seeking Comfort Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just call him Nurse Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wee break, back on it now, I see this going for a few more chapters maybe up to Chapter 10 or 11.

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part Six  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent, Scott/Alison mentioned, Derek/Stiles suggested, Chris/OMC  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Summary:** Just call him Nurse Stiles.  
 **Author notes:** Sorry for the wee break, back on it now, I see this going for a few more chapters maybe up to Chapter 10 or 11.  
  


On Thursday afternoon Scott and Stiles decided to skip their last period, Scott had a craving for In and Out burger and Stiles, well, Stiles could do without AP Chemistry in his life. Stiles hadn’t heard from Chris all week but he wasn’t dwelling on it, nope he definitely hadn’t thought about it much at all. Just like he hadn’t written out and deleted about fifty different text messages to the older man. Nope Stiles was cool and indifferent. So when his phone rang whilst they were waiting in the drive-through queue, Stiles definitely did not almost drop his phone in his excitement.

“Hello!”

“Stiles, um can you talk?”

“Umm, yeah Scott got a need for a cheeseburger so we’re just in the line for drive-thru. Are you, um are you ok?”

“I wanted to apologise for not being in touch sooner, I got called away by a couple of hunter friends of mine and well it’s never an overnight thing with the Winchester brothers. So um sorry, I should’ve at least sent you a message, but well I won’t bore you with the details, but the hunt was kind of full on.”

“Shit Ch…Christ are you ok?” Stiles awkwardly covers up his near slip.

“I’m ok, it’s just a scratch really, no permanent damage. Nothing was too broken, Sam, one of the hunters, he broke his arm, dislocated his shoulder, and he um, it wasn’t good.”

Stiles glances over to Scott whose face is twisted in that “Who the hell are you talking to on the phone if _I’m_ sat next to you” look.

“Um hang on a sec.” Stiles opens his door.

“It’s just my Dad, something about a case, I’ll just be over there. Shout when the foods up ok.”

Stiles doesn’t wait for an answer from Scott he just jogs away from the car and over to the ugly plastic picnic benches.

“Shit Chris what the hell were you hunting, was it a werewolf? I’m coming over, you sound exhausted and I know you’ll say you’re fine regardless.”

“That…that would be good Stiles, thank you.”

“Ok, ok, just sit tight and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Stiles knows something’s wrong when Chris doesn’t even try to argue with him.

-

“Dude, what’s the hurry I just got my burger I though we could go up to the woods and maybe smoke a little joint, you know like old times?”

“Well, Scott firstly weed doesn’t even effect you’re werewolfy self anymore and secondly I have to go see my Dad about something and it’s kinda urgent, you got your damn burger right!” Stiles rolls his eyes and tries to keep his impatience to a minimum.

“Man whatever, don’t be such a little bitch. I just thought you could do with a little smoke you’ve been so moody and antsy all week, thought it might mellow you out.” Scott says with a shrug. “Can you at least drop me back to school? Alison won’t be home and she’s going to the library after school, maybe I can distract her.” The thought of Alison clears Scott of any concern for Stiles, his face turning into it’s usual dopey smiley self.

“Sure dude, I’ll just drop you off at the gates through man I gotta hurry.”

-

Fifteen minutes and several traffic violations later Stiles jumps out of the jeep and runs over to Chris’ front door. He pushes the doorbell forcefully until a sleepy looking Chris pulls the door open.

“Shit Chris what the hell happened to you?” Stiles all but shouts, as he pushes his way into the house.

Chris is wearing a very torn, very bloody deep v-neck shirt; there are flecks of blood, dust and what looks like shards of glass all over his face, hair and neck. His left arm is in a crudely made sling and the fingers of his right hand looks swollen.

“Oh man Stiles, s’good to see you.” Chris leans his head into Stiles’ body and takes a deep breath.

“Jesus, what have you taken?”

“Some co…co…co-codamal and something else that Dean said would take the edge off. I’m fine I’m just sleepy, so fucking sleepy. Ummm you smell good.” A wide and ridiculously beautiful smile breaks out across Chris’ tired and bloody face. Stiles takes a minute to try and maneuver Chris into the house and up the stairs.

Once in the bedroom Stiles gently helps Chris to sit down on the end of the bed. Without Stiles’ arm around his waist Chris just keels over face planting into the clean white duvet.

“Hey, hey, old man, gotta get you fixed up, hey you with me? Let me clean you up and then you can sleep ok.” Chris lets out a groan in acknowledgement and another groan of pain when Stiles pulls him upright and props him up with a couple of pillows.

“Ok stay there I’m gonna get some water and oh god knows maybe a freaking doctors bag.”

Stiles leaves Chris in search of a first aid kit, he returns as quickly as he can. He’s armed with an industrial looking kit he found in Chris’ study/training room, a glass of water and a bowl of warm water as well as some cloths and towels.

He places his stash down on the floor and knees between Chris’ opening thighs.

“Hey, hey baby…” Stiles says softly whilst cupping Chris’ face with his palm. “Gonna fix you up now ok?”

“Stiles, ummm my Stiles.”

Stiles blushes a little at those words, but sets about accessing the extent of damage to Chris’ body.

“Ok babe, you’ve got to tell me what happened and where you’re hurt.”

“Fucking witches, fucking coven.”

“Witches? Jesus Christ, witches are real?”

“Yup and they are so much worse in real life, s’posed to be an easy job. Five witches, new coven, Dean would be the bait, me and Sam would kill the head witch, easy, done it so many times before, s’easy peasy.”

Chris drifts off a little; he rests his head onto the headboard and lets out a little puff of air onto Stiles’ neck.

“Hey buddy no sleeping just yet, tell me about these witches hey? What did they do to you guys? What went wrong?”

“Wasn’t normal, we thought it was a new coven, just bored housewives, but, but the head witch was fucking old, old hag witch. She was so powerful, she liked Dean…” Chris actually lets out a wheeze at this point, his eyes crinkle in the corners and a cough rumbles in his chest. “Owww fuck, hurts…everywhere…” The pain soon clouds Chris’ face. Stiles doesn’t wait for further explanation, he just starts to cut through Chris’ ruined t-shirt and with care he eases Chris’ arm out of the sling and rests it atop of a pillow.

“Ok, oh fuck…there’s so much blood Chris, why the hell didn’t you go to the hospital?” Underneath the t-shirt Stiles has revealed a patchwork of bloodied and roughly applied bandages and gauze. His fingers tremble as he starts to pick at the edge of one of them.

“You’ll see, you’ll see why…can’t go to hosppp, hospital…you’ll see.” Chris winces when Stiles’ cold fingertips trace the edge and pull gently on the gauze.

“Oh man.” Stiles pulls away the ten or so patches that cover Chris’ torso to reveal an assortment of symbols, signs and words etched an carved into Chris’ skin. Some of the marks are no more than kitten scratches, but several are deep slashes still oozing blood.

“Oh fuck, jesus what the hell do all these mean?”

Stiles pours some antiseptic liquid onto some cotton wool and gently starts to clean some of the bigger wounds.

“Arghhhh…ssssssshit…stings.” Chris hisses out.

“Sorry but I’ve got to get them clean. Talk me through what the hell they mean and what those bitches did to you, come on…” Stiles tries his best to distract Chris.

“That…that one you’re cleaning is a pentagram, uh, when we first broke into their coven, the head witch, she um pinned Sam and I to the wall and started to carve these into us, said she was going to bind some sort of curse to our soul. Ah fuck, oh god that hurts…ok, ok…Dean regained consciousness just before she finished performing the ritual, so all we got were these cuts. The smaller ones are from the less powerful witches.” Chris takes a deep breath and rests his head once again on the headboard.

“We managed to kill three of them whilst the head witch was down, Dean had smacked her to the floor and she was out of it. So we took out the weaker ones but then she came too. She nearly gutted Sam, she came out of nowhere slammed him into the wall and put these long claw like fingers right into his gut…oh fuck the blood Stiles, so much fucking blood. Then she um then she…” Chris closes his eyes and Stiles watches as pain flickers across Chris’ features.

“Jesus what the hell did she do to you guys?” Stiles pries as he applies a neat, clean layer of gauze to some of the bigger wounds. He then rubs a small amount of cream to the scratches that cover Chris’ chest. Stiles also wraps a stretchy bandage around Chris’ painfully swollen elbow.

“She, like I said she liked Dean, so as Sam was laying in a pool of blood she, I don’t even know, she like held Dean down and got him into a trance of sorts and started jacking him off. Fuck, I couldn’t do anything she’d twisted my arm round and had stomped on my right hand, then out of nowhere this little willowy nineteen year old witch that I guess had been hiding pulled me across the room. She shoves this sword towards me and tells me it’s the only way to kill the witch, fucking sword made of iridium dipped in sheep’s blood.” Chris lets out a humorless laugh.

Stiles curls up next to Chris and pulls the older man’s head to his chest.

“So I fucking limped over, one good arm and she’s so preoccupied with fucking Dean up she doesn’t noticed me and I slam this sword through her back. Errr fuck, it was brutal Stiles, so fucked up. Dean wakes from the trance covered in everyone’s blood, mostly Sam’s and this fucking witch’s, his cock out and hard and sees his brother nearly dead on the floor.”

Stiles strokes down Chris’ face and gently cards through his dirty hair.

“It’s over now, ok it’s ok you finished it, it’s over now baby.”

“So fucking tired, Sam, Sam nearly died…Dean wouldn’t speak just drove, we stop at a motel phoned a nurse friend of the boys to come help. We stopped most of the bleeding and got Sam mostly patched up but he looked so pale, not good Stiles not good.”

Chris voice hiccups a little on the final few words and Stiles, as gently as possible, moves the older man so he’s laying under the covers. Once Chris is settled Stiles closes all the blinds and tidies away the first aid kit and blood soak cloths; he takes a quick shower and crawls half naked into bed with his lover. The warmth so his skin presses into Chris’ battered and bruised flesh. Stiles feels Chris’ breathing even out and his face relaxes once they are intertwined; he places a flurry of kisses to Chris face and neck.

“Don’t you fucking do that again, ok, I need you too much, I can’t lose you too.”

Sleep takes a while to come, Stiles traces his fingers softly over Chris’ undamaged skin and thinks about how fast he’s falling for the older man asleep next to him. He thinks about what the hell he’s going to do with this revelation.  
  
[Part Seven...](http://caoscalmo.livejournal.com/9093.html)

  
  



	7. Seeking Comfort Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little comfort in the night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think I know where this ridiculous ride is heading...I'm trying to post as I go so I don't leave you guys hanging! Thank you for sticking with it, I hope y'all are still enjoying it! :)

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part Seven  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent, Scott/Alison mentioned, Derek/Stiles suggested, Chris/OMC  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Summary:** Just a little comfort in the night...  
 **Authors Notes:** So I think I know where this ridiculous ride is heading...I'm trying to post as I go so I don't leave you guys hanging! Thank you for sticking with it, I hope y'all are still enjoying it! :)  
  


Stiles rolls over and stretches his hand towards Chris’ side, it’s cold.

“Chris, you there?” Stiles sleepily calls out, when there is no answer he blinks open his eyes and scrambles for the bedside lamp. Chris’ side is empty and the hoodie Chris likes to wear in the house is gone. Stiles pulls his body out from under the warm duvet and reaches for his own hoodie, before padding down stairs.

“There you are…” Stiles says to the shadow of Chris’ hunched back sat at the breakfast bar.

“Oh hey, sorry did I wake you.” Chris replies. He’s making patterns in a small pile of sugar he’d poured out on to the surface. There’s an open bottle of Tylenol and an empty glass sat in front of him.

“The pain meds wore off, so I’ve double the dosage of these things, nowhere near as strong as the stuff Deano gave me, probably for the best though. Sorry if I was a little out of it.”

Stiles sits down next to Chris, their naked thighs touching.

“No worries you’re quite adorable when you slur your words and sway in your step.”

“Ha, oh god like an old drunk…um…thank you though for patching me up, my elbow feels better already and my sides don’t ache so much now.” Chris places his cool hand on top of Stiles sleep warmed skin and runs his thumb softly over the younger man’s knuckles.

“Just Nurse Stiles to the rescue…” Stiles says with an awkward laugh. “Are you okay, really?”

“I’m um, I’m ok, it just shook me up I guess, I was pinned to this wall completely powerless and all I could think of was ‘Shit, I think this is it, I think I’m going to die.’ Then I thought about Allison losing another parent, not to belittle our relationship, but in that moment I knew Allison would be all right, without me I mean. She’d mourn don’t get me wrong, but ultimately she’d be ok, she’d live and survive. Then, ahh, then I thought about you and all I could think about was how much I would miss if I died right then and there, how many things I would miss out on _with you_.” Chris’ hand tightens around Stiles’, squeezing at the boy’s flesh. Stiles places his hand over Chris’ trying to reassure the man that he’s ok, that they are both still here.

“God Stiles, I thought I was going to die and I hadn’t had my chance to be with you properly with you, to make you truly happy, I think I see it now that’s what I want Stiles, just to be happy, with you. You are one of the best things to ever happen to me and I nearly lost you.”

Chris pulls Stiles’ hand up to his lips and presses a hard, urgent kiss against the smooth pale skin that stretches across the back of Stiles’ hand.

“Chris, we’re ok, it’s ok…come on let’s get back to bed, it’s nearly four am.”

-

Stiles tugs the duvet across both their half naked bodies as he pulls Chris against his side. He kisses along Chris’ hairline, quick almost aggressive little kisses.

“Stiles…” Chris moans as he turns his head towards the boy’s mouth.

Their lips meet, Chris wastes no time plunging his tongue into the wet, slightly sweet heat of Stiles’ mouth. Their tongues lick and taste each other, both urgent and reassuring kissing. Chris tightens his grip on Stiles naked hip, he squeezes at the flesh, and he knows it’ll leave a mark but he doesn’t care, he needs proof that Stiles is really there, next to him. Stiles pulls back a little, nips his teeth against Chris’ lower lip, lets them both catch their breath.

“Need you Stiles, need…” Chris drags his hand across Stiles’ hip and dips his fingers below Stiles’ waistband.

“Chrissss…please.”

Chris tries to grip Stiles’ cock, but his clumsy swollen fingers can’t form a tight enough fist, frustrated Chris climbs out of bed and stomps over to the window.

“Fuck I hate feeling like this, like a fucking cripple.”

Stiles walks up behind Chris and lays his hand upon Chris’ bare shoulder.

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, you got hurt yesterday and although you look like one you aren’t actually a superhero, ok! You aren’t invincible.” Stiles kisses the muscle between Chris’ tight shoulders.

“Would be easier to be a hunter if I was.” Chris says the smile evident in his voice.

“How about I, um, I could give you a show?” Stiles suggests timidly.

“Ummm, I think that might help with my recovery my lovely Nurse Stiles…a little show and tell…oh fuck Stiles what did I do to deserve you?” Chris turns around and captures Stiles’ mouth. They lean into each other as they kiss; both men harden in their boxers.

“Fuck…go, go sit!” Stiles points to the worn looking armchair in the corner of the room, it’s usually Chris’ reading chair and there is a pile of old well-read books stacked beside it. It is also the perfect chair to sit back in and enjoy a full view of the bed.

Stiles watches Chris get comfy in the chair and slowly steps backwards towards the bed. As their eyes meet Stiles hooks his thumbs into the elastic of his boxers tugging them down.

“Slowly, I thought I was getting a show here. Let me enjoy the view baby.” Chris says with a smirk.

Stiles rolls his eyes at Chris, but does as he’s told. Slowly he runs his long fingers up and down the length of his bare torso; he sucks the tips of his fingers into his mouth and lets his other hand play a little with his nipples.

“So hot Stiles, you have no idea what you do to me, do you? Fuck you are so perfect and I get to see you like this, all for me.” Chris presses his palm against the insistent bulge in his boxers and lets out a moan at the delicious, teasing pressure.

Stiles playfully shimmies out of his boxers, makes a show of flicking them towards Chris with his foot, both men let out a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Stiles feeling rapidly nervous scrubs both hands through his soft hair making it stick up at every angle and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth before he looks over to Chris.

“Show me how you touch yourself baby boy, show me what you like when no one’s watching.”

The playful almost light spirit that had previously filled the room is gone almost instantly as Chris’ eyes locked onto Stiles’. Stiles wraps those long beautiful fingers around the base of his weeping cock and slowly begins to jerk his length. He closes his eyes unable to keep this slow and look at Chris at the same time.

“Oh jesus, your hands Stiles…fuck. Tell me what you think about when you do this, how do you bring yourself off?” Chris pants out.

Biting into his lower lip to stifle a moan, Stiles blinks his eyes open and tries to form a sentence. The press of his fist and the hot gaze of Chris’ eyes burning into his body are too much a splash of come spurts out of his dick, he squeezes painfully hard on the base his cock stopping himself just in time.

“Fffuck…so close Chris, jesus…” Stiles closes his eyes and licks his lips. “I think about you, I used to think about your hands on me, I had this scene I’d play out…fuck.” Stiles loosely tugs at his cock, letting his other hand drop lower to cup his balls.

“Yeah, what did I do?” Chris asks his voice pulled taut and needy.

Letting his eyes briefly flutter open, Stiles looks over to Chris, watches him squirm a little on the chair.

“You’d come rescue me from whatever monster we were facing that week, I was usually tied up, couldn’t move much…fuck,” Stiles rubs his thumb roughly over his slit. “I’d…uh….I’d be helpless, strung up, you’d walk in all cocky, wearing that fucking thigh holster and toting a couple of guns. You’d waltz over to me and once you’d made sure I was safe you’d tease and taunt me, then you’d run your hands over me. You’d…fuck…you’d ask me why you should rescue me, what was in it for you? And I’d panic a little and offer you money or something lame and you’d tell me that for every lock you had to undo I’d have to give you a piece of clothing. I beg you to help me and say I’ll do anything and you’d start cutting off my clothes with that little knife you keep in your boot, just slice through whatever I was wearing. Fuck your hands would tease and graze at my skin, the tip of the knife just kissing at my flesh but never actually cutting me. So fucking hot, loved feeling so powerless against you.” Stiles falls backwards onto the bed, his eyes open and he looks over to see Chris rubbing at his own cock looking frustrated and impossibly hot.

“Don’t stop, fuck don’t stop there, want you to bring yourself off then I want you on your knees in front of me boy!” Chris almost snarls out.

“Fuckkkk…ok, ok, umm.” Stiles pulls himself up the bed and arranges himself with his legs spread wide and open for Chris’ gaze. He starts to tightly and quickly fist his cock.

“Once I was naked you’d make some comment about how young I looked and how…oh god…how small my cock was…” Stiles feels the embarrassment burn up his body, it’s like he can’t stop himself from telling Chris the whole ugly goddamn truth.

“Fuck, you liked that baby boy, me making you feel like that, because we both know that’s a lie your cock is beautiful baby, s’bigger than most.” Chris says voice softening.

“Not bigger than yours though, fucking monster cock.” Stiles teases and as if to prove the point Chris pulls his fully erect and weeping member from his shorts.

“Oh fuck…” Stiles again bites down on his lip and almost painfully squeezes at his cock.

“Hurry up, this...” Chris pulls at his dick, “ain’t gonna suck itself.”

“Fuckkk, Chris…you’d laugh at my dick then you start jacking me, making me hard, telling me what a bad boy I was. Then you jerk me off, teasing me with your fingers, letting the rough tip of your thumb press against my hole, fuck Chris it felt so good, even before I knew how good it would really be it always made me feel amazing. Your huge fist squeezing my cock and your thumb pushing against my hole, fuck you’d bite and tease at my nipples and tell me that you should just leave me there for you to play with whennnn…” Stiles’ body seizes upwards into a firm arch, his hips thrust forward and his come splatters out across the bed covers.

As the roaring stops in his ears Stiles is aware of Chris practically growling at him from the corner. Fumbling on loose limbs and with a post-orgasmic bliss humming through his body Stiles makes his way over to his lover.

“You want me on my knees, Sir?” Stiles asks with a false innocence.

Chris can’t even respond, just pushes his legs further apart and nods his head.

Stiles drops to his knees with a grace he didn’t even know he possessed.

“It’s so big Sir, can I kiss it, please Sir?” Chris can’t even comprehend the effect hearing that word fall from his lover’s lips has on him. He’s torn between feeling like a dirty old man and wanting to never hear anything else fall from those ridiculous lips.

“Fuck Stiles just do it.” Chris growls out whilst pulling Stiles’ open mouth to his cock. “Now be a good boy for me.”

-

  



	8. Seeking Comfort Part Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys go on a little retreat...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter is brought to you by [this delicious photoset](http://prettywasteoftime.tumblr.com/post/34459163611/helenish-lets-get-real-if-i-were-gonna-bang) and this sinful gif of Stiles as I see him in this fic... 
> 
> P.s much time was also spent on [Cabin Porn](http://freecabinporn.com/), y'all should check it out if like me you dream of a pretty boy and a cabin in the woods to call your own :)  
>   
> 

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part Eight  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent, Scott/Alison mentioned, mentions of Sam/Dean Winchester  
 **Rating:** NC-17,  
 **Summary:** Our boys go on a little retreat...  


-

Stiles grudgingly hauls himself to school the following day. It’s a Friday and because he’s in pretty much AP classes for everything he’s done by 1 pm. One of the perks of being freaky clever is they give you study periods for the last two hours on Friday, in the belief that geeks aren’t cool enough to have lives. Mostly this was the correct assumption, as Stiles himself had always used those two hours to do his homework and wait for Scott to finish up his regular classes. But not this Friday nope, Stiles was done at one o’clock and as soon as the bell went he packed up his stuff, sent Scott a quick message saying he was heading home and jumped in his jeep to see Chris.

When he pulled up to the house Chris was one handedly packing a large duffle into the trunk of his SUV.

“Hey, um were you leaving?” Stiles asks, trying to sound nonchalant but failing.

“Ha, um I am leaving well, I will be leaving, but I was hoping you’d come with me. I was going to pick you up from school; I thought maybe we could both do with a couple of days away. The Winchesters have a cabin on the outskirts of Yosemite. I just got off the phone with Dean; he and Sam are in South Dakota seeing an old hunting friend and letting Sam recover, and well the cabin is free to use if we want it.”

Stiles’ face breaks into a smile.

“Yeah that would be great actually, really good…um can we head to mine first though I need to grab a couple of things.”

-

It’s decided they’ll take both cars and park Stiles’ jeep over at the old firing range, it’ll be locked up and safe there. It’ll also make Stiles’ story about visiting his mother’s sister down in Carmel seem a lot more convincing, luckily the Sheriff hasn’t spoken to Aunt Stacy since his mother’s death so Stiles knows this secret will never get found out.

“So what do you want to listen to, we’ve got a four hour drive ahead of us…please choose something I might vaguely have a hope of knowing though, don’t make me feel even older than I am.” Chris says with a smile, the lines near his eyes crinkling up.

Stiles leans over the gear stick to place a chaste kiss on Chris’ cheek, then plug his iPod into the dashboard.

_‘Old Man look at my life, I’m a lot like you were…’_

“Haha very funny Stiles, you’re a really witty young man, you know that.”

“Well I try, I try…” Stiles replies with a smirk as he reaches for his iPod.

“No, don’t change it,” Chris says grabbing hold of Stiles’ hand. “I love Neil Young, all jokes aside. Got to love a Canadian that ran away to find success in Hollywood.”

-

The drive passes quickly in a haze of laughter and idle chatter; both men discover they have a deep love for folk music, Stiles’ love passed on from his hippy mother and Chris’ from of his rebellion against his strict father. They disagree on the new Avengers film; Chris isn’t a fan, preferring the darker Chris Nolan Batman films to Joss Whedon’s treatment for his favourite comic book characters. Stiles doesn’t fight him too much on it because his heart is giddy over finally meeting an adult just as geeky as he is. They eat soggy but tasty truck stop hot dogs and Chris tries not to watch as Stiles forces half of the goddam sausage into his mouth in one go.

“So we’ll have to stop at the grocery store, there’s one here in Merced. It shouldn’t be more than an hour and a half from here.” Chris explains as he pulls off the highway and into the city.

“No worries, this is fun. I miss having someone to go on adventures with. Scott is so boring now.” Stiles glowers a little towards the window. Chris pulls Stiles’ hand up to his mouth and kisses the boney knuckles. He then pretends to gnaw on them just to make Stiles laugh. It works as a giggle escapes Stiles pouty mouth.

“That’s better, like you better with a smile on that gorgeous face.”

“Dirty old man.” Stiles says with a smile.

Chris doesn’t reply, he just bites down a little harder at that comment, then proceeds to make Stiles painfully hard in his pants, by licking and sucking on those long fingers.

After finding a parking space in the most secluded part of the lot, Chris follows through on his teasing and sucks Stiles off right then and there in the car.

-

“Jesus! I’ve got to do grocery shopping after you just sucked my brains out through my cock.” Stiles says leaning his weight into Chris’ frame as they walk across the lot.

“Jesus, I’ve got to do grocery shopping with the taste of your come in my mouth and the bruises from your fingers on my scalp.” Chris teases as he leans down to quickly kiss Stiles’ lips.

“Fair comment, fine I shan’t complain again.” Stiles replies with a grin.

“Ok lets just grab a ton of food and go, I think you owe me an orgasm.”

-

They survive the shopping trip without too much groping and with no inappropriate boners. Once back at the car they unpack far too many bags for a two-day trip.

“Seriously I get that you’re a growing boy but how the hell are we ever going to eat all this, I didn’t even see half the stuff you put in the cart.”

“Oh man you sounded just like my dad then.” Stiles teases.

Chris comes up behind Stiles and roughly slaps the boy’s arse.

“I hope your dad doesn’t do this.” He says as he firmly grips and squeezes Stiles pert cheek.

“Oh, nope, nope Dad definitely doesn’t do that.”

-

It’s around seven when they pull up to a small picture perfect wooden cabin. It’s about five miles off the beaten track and completely secluded.

“Wow, this places looks like a postcard or something from a fairy tale.”

“Ha, yeah it’s Dean second pride and joy after that damn Impala.” Chris says with a smile. “Come on grab some bags and I’ll give you the tour.”

Chris pulls a chain of keys from his pocket and unlocks the door. With all their bags and groceries neatly piled on the kitchen floor, Chris pulls two beers from one of the bags.

“Sorry it’s kind of warm.” He says handing it to Stiles.

“So this is the kitchen, obviously.” Chris says waving the beer around himself. The kitchen is bright and clean, the fixtures and furniture fit with the era of the cabin itself. A Belfast sink is positioned under the window, a cream large 1950’s style fridge hums away in one corner. The floor is tiled in a checkerboard fashion and a solid looking wooden dining table takes up most of the space. There is huge wood burning stove at the far end of the kitchen. The one concession to modern times is a well-used microwave perched atop the work surface.

“You said the Winchesters own this cabin?”

“Yup, their father, John, found it in the 70’s when Dean was a baby. After keeping tabs on it for a few years he decided it was abandoned and claimed it as his own. The place was hella run down. First time I came here maybe ten years ago, it was awful, rotting and just filthy. Dean took it upon himself to do it up, um after John died a few years back Dean sort of lost it, buried himself in this kind of work. He rebuilt the car first then packed up came here without Sam. Completely gutted the place, decided he wanted it to look like it would’ve when whichever son of a bitch built it back in the 50’s. Now it’s pretty much the only place those boys call home.”

“Wow they sound kinda awesome and kinda intense.” Stiles says with a smile.

“Come on, here’s the living room.”

Stiles walks through the kitchen into a large open space; in the centre of the far wall sits another wood burning fire surrounded by two huge worn dark green couches, bookcases line two of the walls. Stiles wanders round the room glancing at the titles. Books on supernatural history, myths and legends are mixed in with Vonnegut, Huxley and Orwell. On another bookcase lie copies of Salinger, David Foster Wallace, Henry Miller and Jean Genet, as well as stacks of philosophy books and old copies of National Geographic’s.

“Man these guys like to read!?”

“Oh yeah, they like to come up here a couple times a year and just forget the world exists, you know? No internet, no phones, no hunting, just each other and their thoughts.”

“ _Just_ _each other?”_ Stiles asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh well, um, yeah let’s just say those brothers are real close and leave it at that. Ok, Stiles?” Chris replies pointedly.

They wander into the bathroom, which is smart, clean and functional. There’s a large freestanding tub in the centre of the room and a shower cubicle in one corner.

Chris pushes the bedroom door open and reveals a huge wooden bed, easily a king maybe even bigger.

“Whoa.” Stiles smirks.

“Um yeah Sam is a big guy 6ft4’ and then some.”

Stiles walks over to the bed and places his beer down on the bedside table. He pulls his hoodie over his head along with his t-shirt and quickly kicks off his vans and crawls up onto the oversized bed.

“I think I owe you an orgasm or something don’t I…Sir?” Stiles looks up at Chris through hooded eyes.

“Ahhhem…yes, yes you do…” Chris looks flustered by the abrupt change of pace.

Stiles pushes his jeans halfway down his legs, so that they rest above his knees, before turning on to hands and knees with his ass facing Chris’ stunned face.

Stiles looks back over his shoulder. “I want um, I want you to do what you did that first time in the closet at school.” As he asks he pushes his hips back, spreading his thighs and cheeks a little, giving Chris the most indecent and utterly enticing sight he’s seen in, well that he’s probably ever seen.

“Oh fuck Stiles, you are too much.” Chris masterfully pulls his leather belt from his jeans and drops it to the floor with a loud thud; he places his beer next to Stiles’ and walks up to the edge of the bed. Stiles watches as Chris pops the buttons on his tight jeans and pulls his cock free. A moan escapes Stiles’ lips.

“Dude you went commando and I only find out about it now…fuck, wasted opportunity!”

A light slap lands on Stiles’ arse.

“Sushh, quiet time Stiles, now let me look at you.” Chris roughly pulls Stiles towards him by the boy’s boney hips and presses his thumbs into the delicate flesh.

“Ahh fuck, how long until you’re eighteen...actually don’t answer that, just stay there and be quiet like a good boy.” Chris curves his palms to cup Stiles’ arse cheeks, squeezing the pale pink flesh with each hand. He pulls the cheeks apart and watches as the tight little rosebud between twitches. Without giving it too much thought Chris drops to his knees and leans forward covering Stiles’ hole with his lips. Gently the older man laps at and teases the tight entrance.

“HOLY FUCKING CHRIST!!” Stiles shouts as his body lurches forward. Stiles buries his head into the soft cotton comforter that muffles the groan that rips from his body. Chris bites a little at the taut rim, running his teeth over the hot flesh, then licking over the imaginary mark he’s left behind.

“Oh fuck want you so much Stiles, can’t wait until I can have you, all of you.”

“Do it, do it now want you to…please, no one will know, please.”

Chris licks over the hole one last time before pulling away and standing up, loosening his grips on Stiles’ hips.

“No Stiles, I’ll know! I won’t fuck you until you’re legal, end of discussion. Now squeeze your thighs together.”

Chris doesn’t wait for Stiles to respond just pushes Stiles’ legs together before guiding his leaking cock between those creamy white thighs. He ruts between Stiles’ legs, the heat of the boy’s thighs versus the cool air in the cabin playing a delicious game with Chris’ already sensitive cock.

“Ohh fuck…you feel so good baby, look at your perfect little ass, gonna fuck you, fill you up. You want that Stiles my huge fucking cock in your tight little hole, hey baby?” Chris pants out. Stiles reaches between his own legs to pull at his engorged cock.

“Fuck want it so much Chris you know I do…fuck…need to feel you in me…please.”

Chris’ forehead creases up, the veins that flank his throat swell and rise up on his skin, he pulls back from Stiles’ body and watches as the younger man beats off with a furious rhythm. Stiles’ arse clenches up, a groan falls from his lips. Chris lets out a guttural moan and comes all over Stiles’ backside and lower back. Unlike their first time, Chris manages to find the coherency to fall forward and wrap his slightly larger hand over Stiles’ to jerk him off to completion together.

-

Chris awakes from his post-orgasm nap to the smell of cooking. He pulls on his discarded shirt and wanders barefoot through to the kitchen.

“Umm what smells so good?” He asks sleepily.

Stiles smiles over to his older lover from the sink, his hands submerged in the hot water finishing the washing up.

“Oh um I made, well I tried to make lasagna. It’s cooking now, I think I lit the stove right, it’s kinda old school.” He says with a smile.

“Lasagna…that’s my favourite.” Chris says a little taken aback.

“I know.” Stiles replies with a contented smile.

Chris walks up behind the boy and wraps his hands around his waist. He places gentle little kisses onto Stiles’ neck, just below his ear along his jaw line.

“I do not deserve you at all.”

“It’s nothing, just thought after the week you’ve had you might want something nice, comforting, you know. Um it’s my mom’s recipe, I can’t make it like she used to, it never tastes right but it’s ok, Dad says it tastes the same but I dunno…I mean...” Stiles trails off a little awkwardly.

“Hey now, it smells delicious and if it tastes half as good as it smells then I’m sold…you’re talking to the guy that thinks gourmet cooking is making pasta sauce from a jar.”

Stiles closes his eyes, leans his head into Chris’ words and let’s himself stay in that warm little bubble they’ve created for themselves. Both of them happy to just listen to each other’s breaths in the quiet of the cabin.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Stiles breathes out.

Chris nuzzles closer into the side of Stiles’ neck.

“I’m already there, I’m in love with you Stiles. I think I fell for you that first night you sat in my kitchen drinking your ridiculously sweetened coffee, you looked so lost and then so damn happy when I asked you to stay.”

Stiles pulls his warm, wet hands from the water and turns his body to face Chris. He grips Chris’ head between his damp hands and kisses his lover.

Chris opens up to the kiss, letting his tongue glide into Stiles’ mouth and tasting the tang of tomato and onion on his lips. Pulling away from the kiss Stiles rubs his cheeks against the rough salt and pepper stubble that covers Chris’ jaw.

“I love you…love you.” He murmurs and mutters against Chris’ skin, enjoying the way the words feel in his mouth. Chris laughs and pulls the boy closer against his body, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ broad shoulders.

The men are pulled from their little loved up world by the shrill ring of the timer on the stove going off.

“Dinner is served honey.” Stiles says fluttering his eyelashes.

“Dork…lets eat. I’m starving, some hot little thing just wore me out in bed.”

“Oh dear old man, can’t have that, this hot little thing needs to go at least two more rounds before bedtime.”

-

Saturday morning they spend leisurely in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. Chris attempts the crossword in the paper he brought with him, but quickly gets frustrated when Stiles knows all the answers before him. Stiles makes it up to him by sucking him off, but Chris twists himself around and they end up instead sucking each other off. They fall asleep again for a couple of hours.

In the afternoon they go for a hike, Chris wants to show Stiles the lake that they all use to swim in when the summers got too hot.

“Wow, this is just so freaking amazing.” Stiles says when they finally break through the thick trees into the open air.

The water is blue and icy hold as Stiles dips his bare hand into it.

“Fuck me it’s freezing.”

Chris pulls Stiles cold hand into the inside pocket of his coat and hold it against the warm skin on his belly.

“You look cute when you’re cold, your nose is a little pink and your cheeks are rosy.”

“Fuck off, you make me sound like a freaking doll old man!” Stiles says with a grin.

“Dollface, umm cute little dollface…maybe I’ll start calling you that, hey.” Chris leans forward and captures Stiles’ cold lips between his. Stiles tentatively laces his other hand inside the warmth of Chris’ jacket, careful of the still healing cuts that cover the older man’s torso.

“How’s your elbow doing?” Stiles asks. They’d discovered last night that Chris was a little too rough in his manhandling of Stiles and he’d woken up with a tennis ball sized swelling on his elbow again. Nurse Stiles had once again wrapped the arm, but Chris was under strict instructions to play nice from now on.

“It’s ok, just feel a bit sore. I’ll just keep taking the ibuprofen like a good boy.”

“Yep, like a good boy.” Stiles says kissing Chris’ nose.

They stay like that for a while; intertwined, lost in each other, watching the calm lake and listening to the quiet hum and rustle of the woods.

-

When they finally get back to the cabin it’s late, Chris’ flashlight shines out over Stiles’ fumbling cold fingers as he turns the key in the lock.

“Hot chocolate?” Stiles asks.

“Umm, please, I’ll get the fire’s going.”

Chris also starts the hot water to fill up the bath, he pours in some Epsom salts he finds in the cabinet under the sink. He chooses to ignore the box of XXL condoms and the large bottle of lube he also sees under there.

Stiles calls his name in the living room.

“Warming and delicious HO-CHO for you my love.” The endearment slips out, it takes both men by surprise but both of them break into identical shy smiles at it.

“Um I drew us a bath, figured we should enjoy that huge tub whilst we’re here.” Chris says as he blows across his mug.

“Umm humm…” Stiles grins taking a huge mouthful and nodding eagerly.

-

Stiles leans back against Chris’ warm, wet chest, propping his feet up on the side of the tub.

“Oh man, I could get used to this, you, me, a huge ass bath tub and a couple of beers.”

Chris runs his fingers through Stiles’ damp hair and places a kiss on the crown of his head.

“It’s a pretty damn good life. You think if we just stayed up here forever anyone would notice?”

“Humm at the moment I reckon we could have a good few weeks up here until anyone notices our absence.” Stiles says with a hollow little chuckle.

“Maybe we should just stay, ignore real life, fuck ‘um Stiles, if they don’t realize we’re gone then it’s their loss baby.”

Stiles awkwardly and kind of messily turns round to face Chris, lying along the older man’s body. He kisses Chris’ lips passionately, quick to deepen the kiss. Their tongues lap against each other and they share the taste of hot chocolate and beer.

“I love you baby.” Chris mouths against Stiles’ lips.

“You too old man…but can we not mix beer and hot chocolate again, tastes kinda gross.” The younger man says with a wide grin.

“Agreed, though you still taste pretty damn good to me.” Chris reclaims Stiles’ mouth before easing the boy onto his back and pulling him carefully against his own bruised and battered chest. Chris wraps one arm across Stiles’ shoulders holding him in place and runs his warm, soapy other hand down the expanse of Stiles’ chest. He rubs over each nipple, tweaking them until they pebble and harden in the cool air of the bathroom.

“Ummm…Chris.” Stiles groans.

Chris plays and teases at them a little more before letting his hand drift lower. He traces the faint line of hair that leads from Stiles’ belly button to the base of Stiles’ half hard cock. Chris pulls the meaty flesh out of the water. Stiles’ sucks in a breath as the cool air stings his sensitive skin.

“I love your cock, oh fuck just being able to say that. You know how good it feels, being able to say aloud that I love your cock Stiles Stilinski. Ha, look at it, love watching it swell and grow. I knew you’d have a big cock, watched you grow into your absurdly long limbs for the last couple of years, knew that a boy with hands and fingers as big as yours couldn’t possibly have a small dick. Proved me right baby.” Chris says kissing the side of Stiles’ neck.

“Fuck, Chris…you watching me, wanting me before, back then, fuck it’s so hot.” Stiles squirms a little, but Chris’ strong arm holds him down; his large hand fisting the boys cock.

“Sssh settle down baby, we’re going to take it nice and slow. I’m just going stroke this beautiful cock whilst we talk and you’ll come when I say you can, ok?”

Stiles lets out a whimper.

“OK?” Chris asks again, gripping a little tighter on Stiles’ swelling dick.

“Yeessss, Sir, yes.” The teen stutters out.

The water suddenly feels hotter against Stiles’ skin and a flush of heat throbs through his body. Chris jacks Stiles’ cock watching the flesh wrinkle and smooth out.

“Love that you’re circumcised, never played with a cut dick before. Looks so different to mine.” Chris rubs the fat, rough pad of his thumb across Stiles’ exposed, sensitive cock tip.

“Ohhh fuck…” Stiles’ body heaves upwards and his teeth bite down hard into the puffy swollen flesh of his lower lip. “Need more Chris, please fuck need to come.”

Gently Chris loosens his grip, dipping his fingers into the water to caress the teen’s tight balls instead. Stiles’ lets out a whine of frustration.

“Remember last summer when you, Scott and Allison decided to have that barbeque in our garden. You’d spent the whole fucking day just in your swim trunks, splashing around in our pool, was too much. I made up some excuse to Victoria, said I had to work all day, watched you all fucking day, sat at my desk that overlooked the back yard. That Lydia girl came over and I had to watch you fall over yourself to impress her.” Chris nuzzles behind Stiles’ ear. “Watched you dive into the water, then pull yourself out, dripping wet; you’d started working out, your little baby biceps and abs just forming on this long, stretched out body. She was so oblivious to you, but I wasn’t fuck…jerked off watching you. Does that freak you out? Me watching you, tugging one out.” Chris practically growls into Stiles’ ear.

“Fuck…no…no…like that you watched me, wanted me…makes me wish I’d, wish that I’d known could’ve helped you out.”

“Oh you did baby, watched you dry off and lie out in the sunshine all jittery and nervous. You ‘bumped’ into me in the hallway remember. You said you were looking for the bathroom, though there was a bathroom right next to our patio, I’d even overheard Victoria clearly telling you all to use that bathroom so you wouldn’t drip water all through the house. Why d’you wander upstairs Stiles, huh, who were you looking for?”

Chris pulls roughly again on Stiles’ cock, long strokes from base to tip. When his hand reaches the warm water he spreads his fingers to trace over the teens balls, then retraces his path back up the tip tortuously unhurried.

“Knew you’d be there, Al…Allison said her mom had gone out but you were working upstairs, wanted to um…wanted to see you…”

“Fucking tease, wanted to see me when you were only dressed in swim trunks that were a size too small and you were dripping wet. Did you even know what you were doing, what you looked like to me?” Chris asks pressing the fingertips of his left hand into the meat of Stiles’ right shoulder.

“No, no fuck Chris didn’t even think you knew who the hell I was. You were so fucking cool, you were scary, untouchable…wanted to you, every time I saw you my stomach would twist with excitement. God I wanted you to notice me.” Stiles says with a high pitched whine.

“Fuck! Of course I noticed you…noticed the way you practically deep throated that hot dog and smeared your whole goddamn mouth with grease as you ate. Watched you suck each of your fingers into that pouty little mouth of yours, the fucking show you put on Stiles…thought it was some weird thing with you, some weird attempt to get Lydia’s attention, or maybe even that asshole Jackson’s. But it was for me wasn’t it, you wanted me to watch you.”

“All for you Chris, just want you, always…fuck.”

Chris tugs at Stiles’ balls and drags his fist up the boy’s length.

“Come for me, come now.” Chris commands, teasing the vulnerable skin and slit at the very tip of Stiles’ weeping cock. The teenager’s body reacts as if it’s been lit from within, his orgasm races up from his toes and he comes abruptly covering Chris’ hand and his own chest with warm semen.

“Oh fuck, fuck…jesus how do you do that to me? Jesus Chris, I’d do anything for you.” Stiles pants out against Chris’ forearm.

Chris lets out a groan, Stiles feels the satisfying heat of Chris’ come spreading over his lower back as the older man ruts against him.

-

In celebration of their weekend Chris decides to bring Stiles an extravagant breakfast to him in bed on Sunday morning. Kicking lightly at the bedroom door, Chris walks in carefully carrying a tray laden with plates, glass and mugs.

“Wakey, wakey sleepyhead…come on Dollface, I cooked for you.”

Stiles pulls his head out from under the pillow that Chris was just sleeping on. Chris takes a long look at the boy’s beautiful naked body before sitting down next to him and nudging him with his hip to get him to move over. Stiles pulls the covers over his nakedness and lift up a corner so Chris can shimmer under too.

“Oh man are those chocolate chip pancakes?” He asks with glee in this voice.

“They might be…those might be hash browns, that could very well be French toast and that definitely may be real Canadian maple syrup and crispy bacon…but hey who’s counting.” Chris says with a smirk.

“You cooked all my favourite breakfast foods! And you actually listened when I went on my Aunt Jemima’s vs. Maple Syrup rant…oh man if I didn’t already love you that would’ve just sealed the deal there.” Stiles leans over to kiss Chris.

“Damn it was that easy, flip some pancakes and your heart is mine.” Chris teases.

They eat in comfortable silence, just the occasional moan of appreciation from Stiles and Chris’ chuckle in response.

-

They reluctantly start to pack up in the late afternoon. Both men feeling rested, if not a little tired after a couple of mutual orgasms and a rather counterproductive shower that lead to them having to wash off separately afterwards.

“Chrisssssss I don’t wanna go back please let’s just stay here forever.” Stiles pouts as he sits atop of Chris’ half packed duffle.

“Ohh Dollface, if only I could keep you here all the time, just mine…wouldn’t let anyone near you…ummm would you like that being only mine to play with?” Chris says as he pulls the younger man up and into his open arms.

“Umm just yours…only if you promised to fuck me everyday.” The heat from Stiles breath tickles Chris’ neck and the older man groans out in arousal.

“God can’t wait to really make love to you baby. How about we come back here for your birthday, just me, you and that huge bed?”

“Umm that would be perfect Chris can we?”

“For you baby anything!”

  



	9. Seeking Comfort Part Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have yourself a merry little Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mayday, mayday I am developing a serious JR Bourne addiction and I'm freaking loving it! :)

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part Nine  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent,  
 **Rating:** NC-17,  
 **Summary:** Have yourself a merry little Christmas...  
 **Authors Notes:** Mayday, mayday I am developing a serious JR Bourne addiction and I'm freaking loving it! :)  
  


-  
The next two months go by in a blur of stolen kisses, rushed handjobs and increasingly smutty text messages and phone calls. If anyone suspects the growing relationship between the improbable pair no one voices their opinion. Scott is, as always, lost in a world of Allison whilst desperately trying to scrap a pass in all his classes. Allison is similarly lost in a world of Scott, her schoolwork isn’t an issue, but unbeknownst to anyone she’s practicing and honing her hunting skills. The Sheriff has finally replaced most of his staff, work is still taking up most, if not all, of his time, but father and son have spent a fair few nights together, mostly watching old films and attempting to bake Christmas cookies.

-

“Oh honey you baked.” Chris sarcastically coos at Stiles as he stands at the Argent’s front door, tin of cookies in hand.

“I’m the fucking spirit of Christmas future coming to scare your ass, now let me in it’s cold and I freaking walked here.” Stiles whines.

With a smile stretching across his face, Chris pushes the door wide enough for Stiles to slink in.

“Allison’s at Scott’s house.”

“I already know actually, I was just there. Not to hurt your feelings big boy, but you aren’t the only person I give my baked goods to.” Stiles says as he leans over to kiss Chris.

“Aww man, way to burst my bubble…but you save the biggest and least burnt ones for me right.” Chris replies biting into the huge chocolate chip peanut butter cookie.

“You know it.” Stiles winks in reply.

“So Christmas is next week, what are your plans?”

Stiles rubs a hand over the back of his neck and looks down at his feet.

“Umm I don’t have any really. Well in the morning I’ll have pancakes with Dad at Peggy’s Diner over on 8th and Pine, because it’s our tradition, but my dad has to work the afternoon shift. So once we’ve exchanged gifts and eaten he’ll head to work at around 11ish. I guess I’ll see what the McCall’s are up to, but I dunno I don’t really feel like it this year.” Stiles trails off, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

Chris plays it cool. “Man that’s a shame, does your Dad always work?”

Looking up to meet the older man’s gaze, Stiles replies. “Umm no, they err, they usually alternate year to year, he worked New Years Eve last year, so he’s Christmas day this year. It’s cool, I’m kind of used to it, no worries.”

“Oh hey, I picked up Dark Knight Rises today, it’s on blu-ray, you got time to watch it tonight?” Chris asks leaning over to kiss his lover’s long, but chilly neck.

Stiles shivers a little slowly nodding his head. “Umm yeah, yeah that would be good…on blu-ray…yeah.”

-

Christmas Day around 11.30am-ish

Chris pulls up to the Stilinski’s house; spotting Stiles’ jeep in the driveway, next to the space left by the Sheriff’s squad car he walks up to the front porch.

He feels nervous, which is ridiculous, he’s been ‘dating’ Stiles for just over two months. Until now they’ve not really done romantic gestures or, in fact, even spoken about what they are doing; dating? Fucking? Are they boyfriends? Surely you’re boyfriends if you’ve declared love, right? Chris tries to will his inner turmoil to quiet down as he presses the buzzer.

Stiles opens the door wearing the most beautifully ugly Christmas sweater Chris has ever seen.

“Chris…” Stiles’ surprise is written all over his face. The side of his mouth is bulging out with what appears to be most of a candy cane wedged inside it.

“I definitely wasn’t eating the Christmas candy off the tree like a five year old.” The teenager says with a sticky grin.

“I wouldn’t pass any judgment if you were, can I come in?”

“Of course, of course.”

“So was that sweater a gift or a dare?” Chris teases.

“Hey! You are looking at one of the finest traditions in the Stilinski household, it’s not Christmas until you are wearing one of Nanna Evie’s ugly knitted sweaters. This was 2009’s model, you can see it features the delightful, if not lesser-spotted three eyed Christmas reindeer and the scarily asexual Santa Claus.” Stiles smirks. “Bless Nanna, her eyesight isn’t so sharp these days, the knitting patterns can get a little freestyle.”

Stiles looks down at the ugly sweater, pulling at the sides to try and best show the design. Chris pushes the front door closed with his foot and pulls the unaware man into his body.

“It’s so fucking messed up that the weirder you are the more I want to fuck you...” Chris says as he roughly claims Stiles’ pouty lips. “Ugly fucking sweater and all.”

They kiss passionately up against the solid wooden door; Chris fisting the hem of that sweater in his hand, pulling and pushing at Stiles’ hips.

-

Once they part, chests heaving and lips swollen, Stiles remembers what day it is.

“Oh Merry Christmas Old Man.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Dollface.”

Stiles leads Chris into the living room, on the TV is “A Muppet Christmas Carol” and the lights in the tree twinkle. It makes Chris’ heart twinge to think that Stiles was actually prepared to spend the day alone here.

“So I have a surprise for you Mr Stilinksi.”

Stiles spins round on his feet to face Chris.

“Huh, I thought you dropping by was my surprise, thank you by the way, it’s sweet of you.” Stiles says blushing.

“Aww baby boy, you are adorable, no I have the whole day planned out.”

“Where’s Allison?”

“Umm well Allison and I had a chat last night.” Chris takes in Stiles’ worried expression. “No, no don’t look like that, nothing bad I promise, it was really good actually. I told her I was seeing someone but that it was a difficult situation and I didn’t feel I was ready to give her all the details. She um, she actually guessed that it was a man and I told her the truth, well apart from the dating one of her best friends bit.” Chris admits with an embarrassed look.

“Ooookkkk, um how did she take it?”

“Like a daughter I do not deserve, she hugged me and told me she would love me even if I dated with a porcupine.” Chris smiles. “She also confessed that she had found one of my magazines when we moved here, so she’d had an inkling for a few years. We also spoke about her mother; I reassured her that I had tried to be the best husband I could be to Victoria. Allison also didn’t have the easiest relationship with her mom, so it was a hard conversation but we both got a lot out. We also both admitted that Christmas last year was a disaster, without Victoria organizing us and forcing the fun upon us it just didn’t feel right. So we made the executive decision that the Argent Christmas celebrations would be held on Christmas Eve instead. She’s spending the day with Scott and Melissa, I was invited but umm I said I would be seeing my boyfriend who lives out of town.”

Chris brings Stiles’ hand up to his lips and presses a hard kiss against Stiles’ knuckles.

“I can’t believe Allison is so cool about it all, that’s really great Chris I’m so happy for you, both of you.”

“I know. I’m a lucky man to have such a wonderful daughter. We both apologized for being so distant; she said she was still messed up over her mom and Gerard’s deaths. We agreed we would spend more time together, it was, um it was really good.” Chris’ usually calm and collected face wavers slightly, but before he loses control he shakes his head and gives Stiles a watery smile.

“I’m just glad that we are finally getting back on the right track, I’ve missed her you know?”

“I know baby, I know you have.” Stiles presses a kiss against his lover’s lips.

“So what’s this surprise?”

“Um well not to disrespect your Nanna, but you might want to change into something a little less ugly and maybe a little warmer too. There are a couple of elements to today’s adventure.” Chris says with a grin.

“Hummm a little less ugly, I don’t know what you mean. Fine, fine, but not all of us can look like a freaking GQ model all the time Mr Argent!”

Chris looks down at himself. “What I always wear this?!”

Stiles snorts, “Huh, yeah exactly your “normal” clothes consist of a tight white tee with an almost indecently low v-neck, jeans that look like they were sculpted onto your legs and ass, oh and to finish it off you have that goddamn leather jacket that looks just the right balance between super worn but still new.”

“Hey I’ve had this leather jacket from since before you ever born kiddo!” Chris protests whilst lightly slapping the boy’s ass.

“Humm I’ll just go grab a freaking hoodie Old Man, hope that’s good enough for you!” Stiles says as he jogs out of the room.

About fifteen minutes later he saunters back into the room, Chris looks up from the magazine he’s flicking through, greeted by the sight of Stiles dressed in a fitted black button down shirt, new dark indigo jeans that hug his thighs just right and a tan leather belt wrap round his slim waist. His hair is an artful kind of messy, whereas usually it’s just a messy kind of messy.

“Fuck me.” Chris says slowly.

“Ha, happily, though a totally not so secret catcher here!” Stiles teases ashe points to himself with a wink.

“You look amazing Stiles, so fucking handsome, jesus I’m not sure I want to take you out now. People won’t be able to keep their fucking eyes off you.”

Stiles walks over to the older man, straddles his thighs and leans down to kiss him.

“Humm we could stay in all day, but you’ve got me intrigued. Come on, take me out.”

-

After about a 45 minute drive Chris pulls into the lot of a kind of swanky looking restaurant.

“Chris why are you pulling in here?” Stiles asks sounding vaguely panicked.

“Because I have a lunch reservation for my boyfriend and I, now hurry up otherwise we’ll be late and this place is fully booked a month in advance.”

Stiles attempts to look demure and at least a little bit like he belongs here. Chris places his hands under Stiles’ jacket, the warmth from the older man’s palm soothes the teen’s nerves.

“Hi, reservation for Argent.” Chris smiles at the girl on the door.

“Umm Mr Argent, of course um James will be looking after you today. Merry Christmas to you both.” The girl stammers out slightly flustered by the sight of the two hot men stood before her.

Chris guides Stiles’ through the restaurant, which although is obviously expensive isn’t actually as intimidating as Stiles first thought. Instead of being lead to a table like Stiles’ imagined, James leads them the kitchen door before he disappears inside.

Chris leans in towards Stiles. “So now I’ve shown you off, I thought you might feel more comfortable somewhere a little more private.” He says with a grin.

“Chris, you fucker, I don’t see you for a freaking age then you call out of the blue asking for a Christmas hamper! Oooh hello there, who do we have here?”

The man is older than Chris maybe by a good ten years; he’s taller, with broad shoulders, there’s a thick layer of black and grey stubble covering his strong jaw. He’s wearing dress pants and a crisp white shirt that is unbuttoned to the chest with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and although he looks like management there is a cloth tucked into his ass pocket that suggests he plays a more hands on roll.

“Jeff, this is Stiles, Stiles meet my very good friend Jeff. He owns this places and occasionally when he feels sorry for an old friend will step into the kitchen.”

“Ummm Chris, it would appear you and I have a lot of catching up to do.” Jeff says not dropping his gaze from Stiles. Stiles blushes at the attention. He finds the older, openly flirtatious man a stark contrast to Chris’ more serious personality.

“Haha, ok Jeff put your tongue back in your mouth and give me the hamper.”

They two old friends chat for a few minutes, Chris keeping it brief preferring to direct the conversation towards Jeff who is only too happy to talk about himself.

“Thanks so much for this and don’t work too hard ok, you need a Christmas too!”

“Oh Chris my darling boy I’ll have my Christmas next month in Hawaii…” Jeff steps forward, dramatically bringing his hand to his mouth, in a whisper fit for the stage says. “Thanks to the obscenely huge amount of money I’ll take from these suckers over this holiday.” He finishes by winking at Stiles and bidding them a merry Christmas, he also pinches both men’s arses before screeching with laughter and going back to work.

Once in the relative safety of the SUV, a slightly startled Stiles turns to Chris.

“How the hell do you know a guy like that?”

“Oh man, where do I even start, lets just say I met Jeff a very long time ago and he’s been with me through many a dark and also a few lighter times. He’s a really good guy, totally over the top, such a big fabulously gay bear. I was utterly terrified of him when I first met him, but, trust me, he grows on you.” Chris answers with a smile.

“You and he never…” Stiles hesitates.

“Oh god no, um he’s completely not my type. We’ve drunkenly made out a couple of times, he can get a little handsy, but it’s all innocent, plus he’s been practically married to Robert for about 20 years. It’s all just flirting with Jeff.”

“This is like a whole side of you I never knew about, have you got a lot of gay friends? Did Victoria know about them?”

“God no, as far as she knew Jeff was a hunter, I have maybe a handful of gay friends and we always used to meet up in the city. Jeff is the only one who knew about my weird heterosexual double life. There isn’t much to know Stiles, I was a closeted gay man, trying very hard to be straight, but everyone needs a couple of friends who get it, and Jeff did.” Chris says sounding a little weary. Stiles drops the subject and reaches across the seat to take Chris’ hand in his own.

“So where to next Old Man?”

“Well, I am taking you up to this little place I like, it isn’t far from here. I thought we could have a Christmas picnic.”

-

They reach the end of a winding road that Stiles is convinced leads to nowhere, but Chris assures him they are going the right way. Eventually they hit a small graveled patch of land and a large fence.

“Um Chris this is private property.”

“Oh Stiles where’s your sense of adventure.” Chris replies with a glint in his eye.

Armed with the hamper in one hand and Stiles’ fist in the other Chris pulls the teenager up to the fence. He drops the hamper to the floor and pulls a little set of lock picks from his pocket, within a couple of minutes the chain and lock clang open against the fence.

“You, Mr. Argent, are a very handy guy to have around.”

“I have my uses.” Chris smiles.

After a little trek up the side of a wooded hill Chris comes to a halt.

“Here we are.” He jumps down a couple of rocks and walks over to a little hut built out of stone. Stiles follows still unsure. Once inside the shelter, Stiles immediately feels warmer, he steps back to let Chris unfold and lay down a huge, warm blanket.

“I didn’t realize you were such a romantic.” Stiles says as he drops down against Chris’ side.

“Well I wasn’t ever really, not until I met you.” Chris leans over to kiss Stiles. “Victoria didn’t like any fuss. She hated it actually if I did silly, frivolous things for her. She was a great mom, would make a fuss for Allison, but if I ever tried to do something for her, on her birthday or our anniversary she’d usually just flat out refuse it. I just stopped trying I guess, made things easier, but enough about that. This is what I wanted to show you.”

Chris gets up and pulls at the shutters that flank one side of the hut’s wall. Suddenly daylight bursts into the room and with it the most spectacular view of the Californian landscape.

“Whoa…that is crazy, it doesn’t even feel like we climbed up that far. This is beautiful Chris thank you so much.” Stiles reaches over to pull the older man down onto the blanket. He lays them both back and leans over Chris’ body, he licks into his mouth, letting their tongues meet and explore each other. They lazily make out for a while, nothing too heated, just enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.

Stiles’ stomach growling loudly breaks them apart, Chris chuckles, Stiles looks a little sheepish.

“Sorry it’s been a while since breakfast.”

“Let’s eat then.” Chris says before placing one last kiss to Stiles’ lips.

They proceed to feast on freshly baked bread, sliced ham and sausage, olives, and so many types of cheese Stiles loses count. Jeff had roasted some chicken in herbs and lemon. As Stiles eats it he sucks the delicious tangy sauce from his fingers.

“Oh my god, this is the best tasting food I’ve ever eaten…oh man…Chris this is the most perfect Christmas day ever!”

“You are adorable, come here.” Chris pulls Stiles’ chin over and licks at his lips.

“I’ve wanted to do this for such a long time, I used to come here back when Allison was growing up. I felt so lost; I’d look out over this infinite landscape and just forget about everything for a while. I always thought it would be a pretty sweet place to bring someone you love.” Chris says as he looks down and fiddles with the hamper, a little embarrassed by his own honesty.

Stiles doesn’t say anything just places his hand over Chris’ to stop the older man fidgeting. Their eyes lock and both men smile at each other.

“I’m so glad you are in my life Stiles, I’m not sure what I would’ve done without you.” Chris kisses Stiles cheek before clearing his throat and rummaged in the pocket of his coat. The pulls out a little parcel wrapped in plain parcel paper with an ‘S’ written on it.

“Merry Christmas Dollface!” Chris says with a smile. Stiles looks a little flustered, before snapping back with false annoyance.

“How long is that nickname gonna hang around Old Man!”

“Oh Dollface, you don’t like it? Maybe I’ll just use Doll or DF…just open your present Dollface and stop moaning.”

Stiles takes the package, he tears at the paper to reveal a little pouch of buttery soft leather, nestled inside is a pocket knife. The handle is carved wood; an intricate Celtic looking design covers the surface. Stiles pulls the blade open, it’s about four inches long and has a soft curved design, at the base near the handle the words _“We were together. I forget the rest.”_ are neatly engraved.

“Chris, um, this is beautiful, thank you so much.” Stiles says, pulling Chris towards him knife still in his hand.

“Did you make this?” He asks running his fingertips over the words.

“Yeah, I um, I spent a summer learning how to make weapons. I always loved the beauty in making your own knife, so much more elegant than a gun. I, um, I wanted you to have something for protection but I couldn’t see you with a gun, I thought this was more your style.”

Stiles leans his forehead against Chris’.

“I love you so much, thank you.”

“My pleasure baby, love you too. The quote…”

“Is from Walt Whitman, I know…it’s perfect.”

-

They spend the afternoon eating, drinking and being very merry. Jeff had made them chocolate brownies, lemon tarts and a delicious raisin Danish treat that drew the most obscene moans of pleasure from Chris’ mouth.

“So I got you a present too but it’s not as nice as yours, I um, I didn’t know what to get you…” Stiles trails off awkwardly, fiddling with a small box he retrieves from his pocket.

“Stiles you really didn’t have to, just being with you is enough.”

“Oh shush, everyone likes getting presents just open it, I’m nervous.”

Chris rolls his eyes in an affectionate way before he pulls the lid off the box. Inside is a leather cuff, two pieces of corded leather held together by a band of brass. The leather is soft, tanned and worn looking.

“I got it at a craft fair Lydia dragged me to the other day, it’s handmade. The girl selling them said she used vintage leather, um when I saw it I could see it sitting around your wrist, it looked like you’d already been wearing it for years if that makes any sense.”

Chris pulls the bracelet from the box and rubs the leather between his finger and thumb.

“It’s exactly what I would’ve chosen for myself, it’s beautiful Stiles. Can you?” Chris holds out the bracelet and his wrist. Stiles’ long fingers wind the soft leather around Chris’ warm wrist, he fumbles a little with the catch before it clicks into place. As Stiles thought the cuff looks perfect on Chris, it lies seamlessly atop of Chris’ sun kissed skin. Using his other hand Chris twists the leather round to get settle it against his skin.

“I’ll think of this moment every time I look at it, thank you.”

“Humm maybe I can do something to make this moment a little more memorable then.” Stiles pushes away the debris from lunch and straddles Chris’ lap. He begins to kiss at the older man’s mouth, whilst letting his hands wander down to the zip of Chris’ tight jeans.

“Fuck, Stiles want your mouth, please.”

Without another word Stiles pushes Chris to lie back then folds over the man’s prone form. Roughly he works Chris’ cock to its full, huge hardness, and then sinks the length between his lips. Chris spreads his hand over the width of Stiles’ head, fingers laced into the teen’s hair. He tugs and pulls at Stiles, fucking slowly up into that delicious heat. The only sounds are the faint slurp and suck of Stiles’ mouth and the sharp intake and exhalation of Chris’ breath. It doesn’t take long, Stiles sucks Chris’ cock deeper into his mouth, and lets the cock head kiss at his throat as Chris empties himself into the younger man. Chris strains upward, stomach pulled tight and face momentarily tense with release, before he bodily sags back onto the blanket.

“Oh sweet jesus, your mouth Stiles is a perfect fucking sin…come here.”

Stiles lays down next to his lover and Chris pulls the boy’s cock from his jeans, roughly, urgently he tugs and pulls on Stiles’ leaking cock.

“Come for me baby, want to see you come. Come on me, now.” Chris twists his wrist, the newly placed leather scrapes across Stiles’ sensitive shaft and he explodes onto himself and the inch or so of Chris’ exposed stomach.

“Fuck baby boy, love you so fucking much.” Chris kisses aggressively at the side of Stiles’ head as the teen pants heavily onto Chris’ chest.

  



	10. Seeking Comfort Part Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Mr Argent...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't plan to write this little chapter, however after reading the brilliant, but utterly heartbreaking [Twist and Shout](http://archiveofourown.org/works/537876) I needed a little bit of fluffy, adorable times in my life. I hope y'all enjoy! :)

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part Ten  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent,  
 **Rating:** NC-17,  
 **Summary:** Happy Birthday Mr Argent...  
 **Authors Notes:** So I didn't plan to write this little chapter, however after reading the brilliant, but utterly heartbreaking [Twist and Shout](http://archiveofourown.org/works/537876) I needed a little bit of fluffy, adorable times in my life. I hope y'all enjoy! :)

-  


Birthday Interlude – February Chris’ birthday

Stiles has everything planned out, well he hopes he does. It’s the night of Chris’ birthday, Alison is at Scott’s, Stiles had casually asked what she was up to at the weekend, and apparently there is a father/daughter brunch and visit to the firing range planned for Sunday. In a rather awkward moment Allison had broken out into a round of giggles and explained that her father was probably going to have a “friend” round Friday night and most of Saturday so she was steering clear of the house for a few days. Stiles thinks he probably hid his embarrassment well enough as he choked on a mouthful of his coke.

-

Stiles is up in the bedroom, he feels fairly ridiculous buck-naked sat with a huge birthday cake in his lap and balloons attached to the headboard. He hears the front door open a close and Chris calls out tentatively.

“Stiles? Where are you, what was that message all about?”

“Up here in your bedroom.”

He can hear Chris’ footsteps get higher and higher up the stairs and he suddenly feels nervous. Chris had said he liked romantic gestures but maybe that’s when he’s the one giver maybe he hates this kind of foolish, childish stuff. Oh god Stiles doesn’t have time to do anything though as the huge bedroom door creaks open.

“Stiles?” Chris peers round the doorframe.

“Oh my god Stiles, are you naked? Are you sat naked in my bed with a huge birthday cake and nothing else? Jesus how many candles are on there? Are you my early birthday present?” Chris says with a chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners and a softness creeping over his feature that lets Stiles know he did a good thing.

“Ummm, Happy Birthday…make a wish!” Stiles carefully holds the candle laden cake up towards Chris’ smiling face.

After giving it a minute’s thought Chris leans forward and in one breath blows out the twenty or so candles.

“Thank you baby.” Chris drops a passionate kiss on to Stiles’ lips.

“Did you make this yourself?”

“Umm, yeah, well sort of, I asked Mrs Steveson next door for her recipe, she makes the best chocolate cake. She may have helped me out a little, but I did the frosting and the candles.” With care Stiles places the cake on the bedside table, he lays back a little revealing his body and slowly stiffen cock to Chris.

“Oh boy, ummm you are a sight for sore eyes…just what I wanted for my birthday.”

Chris reaches down to grab the hem of his tee shirt and pulls it over his head. Whilst he’s momentarily distracted Stiles pulls his finger through the thick frosting on the cake and swipes a line up his taut belly, before quickly popping his finger into his mouth. Chris throws the shirt aside and as he looks down Stiles is slowly drawing the sugar coated finger from out between his lips.

“Oh I see, weren’t you ever told not to play with your food young man?” Chris says as he moves to straddle the boy, his denim-clad legs bracketing Stiles’ pale naked thighs. He leans down not breaking his gaze with Stiles and licks up the teen’s stomach. The strong, flat plain of his tongue dragging through the sweet chocolate frosting; dipping and delving into the contours of Stiles’ body to clean up any remnants.

Stiles’ suck in a sharp breath and his eyes flutter shut as Chris toys with the sensitive hollow of his belly button. Chris works his way up to the centre of Stiles’ chest, stopping abruptly when the frosting path ends.

“Humm I’m all out of frosting.” He says with a smirk.

Wordlessly Stiles dips his finger back into the cake and swirls two blobs onto his nipples, then sinks his digit between Chris’ lips. The older man pulls Stiles’ whole finger his mouth and lets his tongue lap at and tease it free of the sugar.

Chris ducks down again and mouths at each of the chocolate covered nubs, licking and sucking gently at them. Feeling them harden in his mouth, Chris pulls back and gently blows on each of them.

“I made another wish.”

“Ummmhummm.” Stiles lets out a contented sigh.

“Yup, but this wish involves my cock, some chocolate frosting and my boy on his knees.”

“Fuck Chris.” Stiles moans as his body arches up under the hunters weight. Stiles fumbles with Chris’ belt and zipper, his fingers chocolatey sticky and a little jittery with excitement. He pulls roughly at Chris’ jeans, but Chris swats his hand away and steps up and off the bed. Standing next to the bed Chris pulls down his jeans, tossing them onto the armchair. He puts one hand on his hip as the other hand roughly fists and pulls at his cock. Stiles scrambles to get off the bed and between his lovers legs. He leans forward attempting to get the plump, swelling head between his lips.

Chris pulls his cock back, away from the teens lips. “Nope, I said my cock, my boy and chocolate frosting. You better cover me real good boy.”

Stiles coats his fingers with frosting and smoothes in along the thick hard length of Chris’ dick. He works a good glob onto the tip, the frosting mixing with the pearl of precome just glistening on the slit.

“Good boy.” Chris says as he sways his hips towards and then backs away from Stiles’ mouth. The teen’s head follows the older man’s covered cock, eager from a taste. Chris teases him a little more then pushes his hips forward and lets Stiles finally catch the head in the warmth of his mouth.

Stiles brings his hands up to grip at the older man’s hips, his thumbs digging into the muscled flesh. He licks up the length, the saltiness of Chris’ skin mixing with the chocolate. A groan rumbles out of Chris’ chest. He fists Stiles’ hair into one hand, pressing the teen’s open mouth to his balls nestled up tight at the base of his cock. Stiles sticks his tongue out, lapping at the testes, letting his breath push through his nose and taking in huge breaths of Chris’ musky, overwhelming scent.

“Fuck, love your mouth boy, love feeling you lapping at me, worshipping me…fuck.” Chris’ fingers tighten against Stiles’ scalp as the teen sucks one of the perfect spheres into his mouth, rolling its weight against his tongue.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Chris aggressively pulls the teen upwards, flush along his body. He pulls at his own cock before reaching to grip around their combined stiff lengths; pulling and teasing them both.

Chris sits down on the edge of the bed and manhandles Stiles to straddle his lap.

“Want you to ride me, fuck, ride my cock, want to feel you on top of me.”

Stiles looks down at his lover, his eyes slowly refocusing. He shifts forwards and reaches behind himself to grab at Chris’ still chocolate covered cock, he lets the messy length slide between his tight cheeks. Stiles rocks his hips back and forth, clenching and releasing his butt to squeeze and tease at Chris’ aching dick.

“Fuck, knew you’d be a fucking pro, teasing my cock…there’s a good boy, fuck ride me baby. Wanna see you loose control.” Chris grabs onto Stiles’ boney hips.

Holding Chris’ cock between his cheeks Stiles slowly pulls up and off his cock before easing the length back along his body. Using both hands Stiles pushes his weight forward onto Chris’ firm, tense shoulders, and teases the tip of Chris’ cock with his tight hole. The older man throws his head back and all but howls out at the sensation.

“Steady, fuck you little fucking tease…”

Stiles looks down at his lover and smiles a cocky, knowing grin. He pushes his hips down and back so that both their length slide against each other, the chocolate mess rubbing up and covering Stiles’ steadily weeping dick. Supporting himself with one hand Stiles reaches behind himself and fondles at both his and Chris’ balls, as his hips thrust forward in short, furious little punches.

“I’m close, fuck so close.” Stiles breathes out. He gently squeezes his hand as Chris wraps his large palm around both their sensitive heads and thumbs over theirs slits. Stiles comes first, jolting forward and coating the older man’s belly and chest. As Stiles leans back letting his orgasm course through his body his ass cheeks clench and squeeze around Chris’ length, the pressure and heat bring the older man deliciously to completion.

-

After a shower to wash away any traces of frosting and come, a damp and warm Stiles snuggles into his lover’s side.

“So did you like your birthday surprise?” He says as he playfully kissing the older man’s cheek.

“Umm, I can honestly say it was the best birthday present I’ve had in years.” Chris replies sleepily, nuzzling against Stiles’ hair.

“Well that wasn’t actually your present, well not all of it anyway.” Stiles jumps off the bed and over to his backpack lying on the armchair in the corner of the room.

As he walks back Chris watched his young lover’s body sway and move, Stiles’ cock hangs low and puffy against his thigh and rubs back and forth with each step.

“Umm Stiles’ you are so beautiful, you know that baby?” Chris purrs pulling the teen onto his lap.

“Shush you old flirt.” Stiles blushes and fiddles with the package in his hand.

“Happy Birthday, I wasn’t sure what to get you, so I um, I hope you like it.”

“Hey I’m sure it’ll be perfect, like you.” Chris says kissing Stiles’ nose.

“I love the cuff you got me for Christmas, never taken it off.” To prove his point Chris holds up his wrist to show Stiles the soft leather cuff that has aged and molded to his body. Stiles pulls Chris’ wrist to his own lips and places gently kisses onto the leather and the delicate skin.

Chris lets out a little moan when he feels Stiles run his teeth over the flesh before he gently bites into Chris’ wrist.

“Fuck…” Stiles kisses the bite mark before releasing Chris’ hand. “Mine.” He says to the older man with a smile.

“Yours.”

“Now open it.” Stiles’ drops with parcel onto Chris’ chest with a soft thud.

“Ow…ok, ok.” Chris jostles them both as his sits up higher in bed; he pulls the paper, neon pink with hearts and glittery bows on it, open. Inside is an old leather bound book.

“The Philosophy of Witchcraft by John Mitchell and John Dickie. Oh man, this is the edition I was looking for, jesus Stiles how the hell did you find this?”

“Well Old Man, there is a little thing called the internet and I happen to be very good at sourcing all manner of things on said internet.”

Chris pulls the young man down against his chest and kisses the teen ardently.

“I love you. Thank you this was perfect, and you’re perfect!”

Stiles doesn’t reply he just presses into the older man’s body and kisses at his stubble covered neck.

  



	11. Seeking Comfort Part Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can we feel the angst tonight...it is where Chris and Stiles are...and also Derek O_O OMG angst in the house.

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part Eleven  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent,  
 **Rating:** NC-17...sorry no sexy times in the chapter.  
 **Summary:** Can we feel the angst tonight...it is where Chris and Stiles are...and also Derek O_O OMG angst in the house.  
  


March the 22nd or there abouts.

“I miss you, when are you getting back? I need to see you Chris, it’s been nearly two weeks.” Stiles tries to keep the whine out of his voice as he all but pleads with his lover.

“I know baby. I’m sorry, you know I’d rather have been with you, but I needed to go up to Washington. I have to help out the Winchesters when they need me, they’ve saved my life too many times for me to say no.”

“I know, I know you’ll owe them forever, I get it, but I’ve missed you. Scott’s been driving me crazy; did you really have to take Allison too? He’s been like a bear with a sore head the whole freaking time and I couldn’t say anything because I’m just boring old, alone forever, Stiles. Nope, no yearning for a hot absent boyfriend for me. Nope as Scott has said so many times in the last two weeks, I just don’t get it, I’ve never been in love, I couldn’t possibly understand how he feels.” Stiles all out fails at not sounding like a fourteen-year-old girl this time.

“Baby, come on don’t be like that, please. I love you and I’ve missed you like crazy, but I can’t come clean about us, not right now. Allison and I have been getting on so well since Christmas, I feel like she finally trusts me, like she wants to spend time with me again, I can’t risk it Stiles, please.”

Stiles rubs anxiously at his forehead, the twinge of guilt creeping across his shoulders.

“I get it Chris, honestly I do. Sorry I don’t mean it like that I know how delicate the whole situation is ok. I get it, trust me, I get it. It’s just, it’s…it’s hard, you know?”

Chris isn’t used to hearing Stiles like this, it doesn’t sit right with him. This thing, this relationship he and Stiles have it isn’t like this, it’s simple, it’s good, and it’s easy, maybe too easy. Maybe this has just been waiting in the wings, the worry, the guilt and the eventual disclosure and probably the end of it, of this thing. Chris should’ve known he couldn’t have something as good as Stiles forever.

“You still there Chris?”

“Sorry, yeah, yeah I am. I’ll be back in a couple of hours ok. Allison is just paying for the gas and getting some crappy food, and then we’re going to get back onto the 101 and head back home. The roads are quiet we won’t be too long, I’m dropping Allison at Scott’s, you want to come over?”

“Umm actually can you meet me in the woods, the end near the school field, the lookout. I just need to talk to you and I kind of need it to be on neutral ground, ok?”

“What…why…what’s going on Stiles, you’re worrying me…is there more to this? Shit Stiles, what’s going on?”

“I just need to talk Chris ok, just don’t worry, I’m just, I’ve been thinking ok, I just…”

“Damn Allison’s coming…look don’t over think ok, I love you. Soon we will come clean about all of this, but I need you baby please.”

“I…eerr…”

“Shit I’ve gotta go babe.” The line goes dead and Stiles looks at his glowing phone screen for a few seconds before throwing his phone onto his bed. He paces over to the window and tries not to get too worked up.

It’s just it’s not fair. Stiles gets that maybe he’s being a little melodramatic, ok, he gets that Chris is finally back on good terms with Allison, that’s great really it is. It’s just that since Chris’ birthday Stiles just feels like Chris is pulling away from him, like maybe he’s regretting this whole thing with Stiles. Like maybe Chris is just playing along for a while, waiting until Stiles gets to college, then he’ll end it. He’s probably being completely irrational, it’s stupid Chris tells him he loves him all the time, they still fool around when they get the chance, but it feels different something isn’t right, maybe hasn’t been for a little while. Stiles has brought up the subject of telling his dad and Allison the truth a couple of times and Chris hasn’t even discussed it, he just shuts Stiles down like he’s a 12 year old who wants a goddamn puppy or something.

Stiles pulls off his t-shirt, tugs down his jeans, he balls them up and throws them across the room before storming into the bathroom to take a long freaking hot angry shower.

-

Nervously Stiles picks at a thread on his jeans, pulling at the end until the fabric bunches up beneath his fingers. Now he’s here he feels stupid like he’s blown this all out of proportion, it’s just these last two weeks with only the odd text message and one phone call, he’s just had time to think and maybe it’s made him paranoid but he needs to talk and here is as good a place as any.

He hears the rumble of the SUV coming up the short graveled hill leading to the lookout. Stiles pulls his phone from his pocket and clicks through old messages from Scott and a couple from Danny, desperate for something to do with his hands, desperate to look busy and nonchalant.

The car door thuds shut. Stiles takes a deep breath and steadfastly stares down at his screen trying to reign in his stupid nerves and his hurtling thoughts.

“Stiles?” Chris whispers.

Stiles looks up, then quickly away from the older man, he rises up to his feet and stands with his back mostly turned away from Chris.

“Stiles what the hell is going on? Have I done something to upset you? Has something happened I don’t know about?”

“No, no nothing like that, umm it’s me ok, it’s just me and my stupid thoughts and I’m sorry this is so overly dramatic. I didn’t mean it to be, I just, it all got out of control and I just wanted to talk to you without things being complicated by anything.”

“What do you mean, why would they be complicated?

“Because if we were alone at your house, I wouldn’t be able to just talk to you. I’ve miss you too much and I’d chicken out and we’d just fool around and then I wouldn’t say the things I need to say…ok?” Stiles’ voice takes on a tone Chris has never heard before, a mix of sadness and anger and fear. Chris takes a couple of steps closer to the teen desperate to see Stiles’ face, desperate to try and gauge what’s really going on here.

“Stiles tell me what you’re thinking about, whatever it is we can sort it out? You’re scaring me baby?”

“I…um…I just…” Stiles turns around to face Chris. “I need to know when you are going to tell Allison about me, I need to know why you won’t tell her…why you won’t let me be with you properly. I need that Chris I need to have you like that. I’m so fed up of having to lie about you, or pretend you don’t even fucking exist, when I all I want to do is tell everyone, every-fucking-one that you are mine. I love you Chris and I can’t tell anyone about it. For the first time in my life I am in love with someone and they actually want me and love me back and I can’t tell a fucking soul. Scott knows something’s up, and you know what I had to tell him, I told him my medication had changed and it was fucking with my emotions. My dad found the knife you gave me and I had to pretend I found it on eBay and I had bought it for myself, he made a fucking joke about how times must be hard if I was buying myself gifts engraved with love notes. I know he was only joking, but seriously Chris, I…I love you and I can’t tell anyone.”

Stiles is visibly shaking after his outburst, the angry and sadness trembles through his fingertips as he bring his palm up to his forehead.

Chris walks up to his lover and pulls Stiles into his arms.

“Oh baby, why didn’t you say anything, why didn’t you let me know sooner? I’m so sorry I made you feel like that; I never meant to make you feel like that. You should’ve said something.”

“I…I did, Chris.” Stiles steps out for Chris’ embrace so he can look the man in the eye. “Five times since your birthday I’ve asked you when, when can I tell my dad, when can we tell Allison, Scott and every time you shot me down. ‘Not yet Stiles, it’s still too soon.’ ‘No Stiles we can’t do that to Allison, not now.’ I get that you don’t want to hurt your daughter, Chris. I get that, but what about being with me is so shameful, are you going to hide me forever? I know I’m younger than you and I don’t think it’s going to be easy, I don’t think any of it is going to be easy, but I need to know that this means as much to you as it does to me. I need to know that you think I’m worth the risk.”

Stiles’ big brown eyes look impossibly large as they stare into Chris’ face, he looks impossibly young and vulnerable and it damn near destroys Chris.

“Oh jesus, Stiles, oh god I am not ashamed of you baby. That is so far from the truth, I love you Stiles so much, but I…” Chris scrubs a hand over his eyes and down his face, he suddenly looks older and much more tired than he did when he first pulled up. “I’m so scared of losing you and I can’t help but think that when we do tell your father that, that’ll be it for us. I’ll never be allowed near you again. I’m 42 years old Stiles, I’m too old for a 17 year old boy.” Stiles goes to protest, but Chris holds up his hand. “I’m not saying that I think that, well, sometimes I think that I am too old for you that I should let you live your life with someone younger, but no, Stiles I love you. I would be in love with you if you were 77 or 27 and I’m in love with the 17 year old you. I don’t think of you as a teenager, I don’t love you because you are a teenager, I don’t want to fuck you because you are a teenager, I love you because you are _you_ , baby. I love _you_. But I cannot promise that me loving you, as honestly as I can, will mean that we will still be together once this gets out. So I’m sorry if I dismissed you all those times, I was being selfish because I don’t want to stop having you, I don’t want you to stop being mine.”

Stiles looks at Chris, both men a little apprehensive and both a little exhausted by their respective speeches. Then Stiles wraps both his hands around Chris’ neck and pulls the older man to his lips. They kiss, lost in each other, lips, tongues, and teeth clashing together. Neither of them hears the fast, repetitive thud of someone approaching them, until there’s a crash through the trees and a shout.

“Stiles!”

Derek stands at the edge of the woods between Chris’ SUV and the bench Stiles was waiting on. Chris pulls away from Stiles’ mouth and turns towards the werewolf. Stiles blinks back to consciousness.

“Derek…DEREK WHAT THE FUCK?” Stiles shouts suddenly aware of what the werewolf has just seen.

“Derek, umm, please…don’t.” Chris starts to explain but Stiles interrupts.

“Derek you can’t tell anyone about this, please not until we’ve had a chance to talk to them.”

Derek just stares at the pair of them, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring, slowly his wolf features retreating.

“How long?” Is all he asks.

“What…I…no, Derek, no I’m not even answering that, it’s none of your business.”

“I said, How long? How long have you been fucking him, Argent? How long have you been fucking a 17 year old boy?” Derek’s eyes flare red as he says the last sentence.

“Derek, what the fuck’s gotten into you?” Stiles asks dumbfounded.

“No Stiles, it’s ok. Derek, I haven’t ‘fucked’ Stiles, not that it’s _anything_ to do with you.” Chris replies pointedly.

“Ha…” Derek snorts. “That’s a likely story Argent. I thought you might have escaped unscathed but it turns out the whole Argent family is fucked up. Your father was a twisted bastard, your sister, a sadistic bitch and you’re a fucking pedophile, nice Argent, real nice. You just need to leave Stiles out of this, get away from him and leave town, now.”

Stiles steps in between the werewolf and his lover, he pushes aggressively on Derek’s firm chest.

“Back the fuck up Derek! Firstly you have no fucking right to say any of that to Chris, yes we are together, no we haven’t ‘fucked’, and he is not a pedophile. I am in love with him and he loves me. We haven’t told anyone yet because we knew everyone would jump to the wrong fucking conclusion, and thank you, by the way, for just proving that point nicely for us.” Stiles glares at the werewolf, trying to look like he means business.

“I…you’re…what…you’re in love.” Derek stumbles over the words and blinks disbelievingly at the pair of them a few times.

“Yes Derek, we are.” Stiles steps back and puts his arm around Chris’ waist, letting the older man curl an arm across his shoulders. Derek looks between the two of them, and then shakes his head. Without another word he turns and abruptly charges away, turning back to wolf form and escaping through the woods.

“He’s jealous.” Chris states.

“What of us, of us being in love?” Stiles innocently asks.

“No Stiles, he’s jealous of me, he’s jealous of me having you.”

Stiles scrunches up his face and looks at Chris as if he’s just sprouted another head.

“Nu-uh no way, Derek…me…there’s no way.” Stiles says.

“Seriously, you seriously don’t see what you are or the effect you have on people. Oh Stiles you, oh god, Derek wants you and he won’t be the only one.” Rather than making Chris feel smug, or proud even, it just makes the older man feel tired and anxious. It can’t be long before Stiles realizes he can do so much better than a worn-out, old hunter like him.

“Bullshit, Chris…Derek’s just pissed that I’m not going to be pining after him anymore. Fuck him, you are so much more than him Chris, you’re perfect. You are everything I need.” Stiles leans forward and presses a kiss into his lovers lips.

“I love you old man.”

“Love you too baby…love you too.”

They are both quiet for a while wrap around each other, both lost in their own private thoughts and worries. They head back to the SUV and start off for home.

“This changes things doesn’t it?” Stiles says.

“Yep, I’m afraid it does. Even if Derek doesn’t tell anyone, which is unlikely, not with him living with Isaac; not with him being as angry as he was. Even if Derek doesn’t outright say it, Isaac will know something is wrong and it’s only a matter of time before he finds out why. Then it’ll be Scott, then Allison and then before long the whole town and your father.”

Stiles squeezes Chris’ knee.

“We’ll tell them then, sooner rather than later.”

“Yep sooner rather than later.” Chris says trying for a reassuring smile, but just falling short.

  



	12. Seeking Comfort Part Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So initially this was going to be plotty and angsty, but then I got a little bit distracted, please accept my apologies!

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part Twelve  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent,  
 **Rating:** NC-17, sexy times ahoy  
 **Summary:** So initially this was going to be plotty and angsty, but then I got a little bit distracted, please accept my apologies!  
  


Stiles spends the night at Chris’. Both men are exhausted and fairly anxious over their immediate future; they both cling a little tighter to each other as they attempt to find sleep.

“Love you baby boy, missed you so much.” Chris whispers into Stiles’ ear as he spoons behind the younger man. “Thought about you all the time, kept wanting to tell you about the stupid jokes Dean was telling me or show you the old books Sam had found. Soon baby, it’ll be me and you and everyone will know, no more hiding.”

Stiles snuggles back against the warmth of Chris’ body, pulling the hunters thick, muscled arm tighter round his waist.

“Me and you…ummm…me and you.”

-

The next afternoon Stiles is heading out of Best Buy, USB memory stick and season four of Sons of Anarchy in his hand, as he gets out the keys to his jeep he feels a figure looming behind him.

“Hey Derek.” He says without turning around.

“How did you, um, how did you know it was me?” Derek confusedly asks.

“Well you are the only person who sneaks up on me so close that I can practically feel your breath on my neck and you never say hello or you know announce your presence. So based on the heavy breathing and the lack of an introduction I guessed it was you. Plus I could see your head in the window.” Stiles raises his eyebrows in a sort of ‘duh’ expression when he makes eye contact with the alpha in the dark window of his jeep. 

“Oh, um yeah…um hey.”

“What do you want Derek? I’m not in the mood for any bullshit, just tell me.”

“I’m wanted to talk to you, away from Argent. I um, I need to know, I mean I wanted to check that he wasn’t forcing you to um…”

“That he wasn’t forcing me to…what, Derek? To watch movies with him, to go hiking with him, to buy used books together, or get coffee with each other? Or what Derek, what do you want to know; that he wasn’t forcing me to suck his dick, or maybe forcing me to have mine sucked by him? Or are you just checking that he isn’t forcing me to be in love with him, because I am Derek. I. Am. In. Love. With. Chris. Argent.” Stiles practically growls out the last part, punctuating each word with a little jab to the alpha’s shoulder.

Derek looks shocked, his nostrils flare and he leans in closer to Stiles. He takes a long sniff of Stiles’ neck. The younger man leaps to the side.

“What the fuck Derek you can’t just sniff people like that, we’re in public, jesus!”

“You’re not lying! You’re telling the truth.”

Stiles lets out a sigh and puts on an over the top ‘thank fuck’ kinda face.

“Of course I’m telling the fucking truth. Why would I lie about something that will hurt so many people,” Stiles leans closer and says in a hush voice. “I am in love with one of my best friend’s dad and a man that is twenty five years older than me, why Derek would I lie about that?”

“I just, it was, I mean…why are you in love _with him_?”

“Are you jealous?” Stiles asks, his voice going high with disbelief.

Derek doesn’t answer he just looks down at his feet and sort of, maybe a tiny bit blushes.

“Oh jesus, seriously Derek. I pine after you for forever and now that I’ve found someone else, now you are jealous…I don’t get it, do you even like me? Or is it just that it’s Chris Argent? Fuck, give me a break.” Stiles says pushing a hand through his hair and staring wide-eyed at Derek’s sheepish expression.

“Of course I like you Stiles, it’s just, I mean, maybe I don’t like you _like that_ exactly, but I like you and well, I guess I figured you’d just always be there sort of following me around and now you’re not and not only are you not following me around your with the fucking hunter. Jesus.” It’s Derek turn now to look exasperated.

“Oh man, really, you just thought I’d follow you around forever, what were you going to do Derek throw me a bone every once in a while, keep me sweet enough to not leave your side but never really wanting me. Fuck, I don’t get it at all. I’m not even a werewolf I don’t mean anything to you or the pack, you don’t need me, so who I’m with doesn’t matter.”

“Seriously Stiles are you that blind, you are so much more than you think, and I…I’m not good with words Stiles ok, but you are important to the pack and to me, and I just I don’t want you to mess your life up because you think you are in love with that man.” Derek all but spits out those last words.

“You know what Derek just leave it ok, I’m big enough and ugly enough to look after myself, you didn’t so much a throw a smile my way before this all happened, so I sure as shit ain’t gonna start worrying about your opinion now. I’ll see you around.”

Stiles opens his door, tossing his purchases onto the passenger seat he turns the key in the ignition and pulls out of the spot, he doesn’t look to see if Derek is still there.

-

He drives for a while letting the anger dissipate a bit before he pulls over to the side of the road and lets out a few shaky breaths. He pulls out his phone, dials his most frequently used number.

“Stiles, what’s up, you ok?” Chris asks.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, I just saw Derek in the parking lot of Best Buy.” As soon as he says it the absurdity of the sentence give him the giggles. Chris lets out a chuckle on the other end of the line.

“Oh god, Chris what the hell is going on with my life? I have the big bad alpha that I thought I wanted, telling me he’s jealous, but I’m so in love with you that I couldn’t give a single goddamn fuck. I don’t even care.” The laughter settles down with both of them, Stiles’ voice sounding more serious as he continues to speak.

“I mean, I don’t doubt us Chris not for one second, I want you, I love you. Derek just couldn’t see it though, even after he admitted that he knew I wasn’t lying, he still thinks I’ve tricked myself into loving you or something. Arghhh…why can’t it just be simple, why can’t it just be about me and you?”

“Oh baby boy, I wish I had the answer to that, I don’t know what to tell you? It’s not going to be simple, not for a while at least; people don’t want us to be together because we break the norm, baby. We rock the boat, not because of the gay thing, well not only the gay thing but the age thing and the fact you’re Allison’s friend. We’ll get through it though, I love you Stiles so much, I need you in my life, and if our friends and family can’t accept that then we’ll make them, we’ll find a way. OK?”

“Yeah, you’re right, of course you’re right. I just I guess I was so caught up in how happy I was about you that I forgot other people wouldn’t be.” Stiles says with a sigh.

“I know baby, I know. Look I’ve got to go, I’ve got a couple of things to do before my dinner with Allison tonight, but do you maybe want to sneak out later. I could pick you up from the corner of 12th and Barnaby and we can go for a drive and maybe fool around a little?” Chris’ voice takes on a light, youthful resonance as he asks.

“Oh yeah, what kind of fooling around, because it’s a school night Mr. Argent and I can’t be out late on a school night, not for just any old fooling around.”

“Humm well maybe we could try that kind of fooling around that involves you on your knees for me…or maybe I could be persuaded to mix it up a little.”

“Umm I like being on my knees for you Sir.”

Chris lets out a groan, Stiles doesn’t very often use the big guns but he knows what reaction that one little word will draw from Chris.

“You like that Sir? Me on my knees for you?”

“Oh fuck, meet me at 10.15 usual place, don’t be late young man.”

Chris hangs up before he draws attention to himself; though luckily for him the sheet metal aisle at the home depot is blessedly quiet.

He quickly sends off a message to his boy, before getting on with his errands.

-

Stiles lets out a little chuckle at the reaction he knew he’d get from Chris. Just as he’s putting the car into gear his phone beeps.

Chris has sent him [a photo of them both](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_maqcp3Gmab1rczxt1o1_500.jpg). The message reads; “Keep your chin up, soon it’ll be just you and me and our two ugly mugs. I love you dollface.”

Stiles lets out another laugh and sets the photo as the screensaver on his phone.

-

As Chris selects the right sized drill bit at the Home Depot, a beige uniform catches his eye.

“Oh shit.” He whispers out loud before plastering himself as flat as possible against the shelves.

“Chris, Chris is that you?” Sheriff Stilinki calls out.

“Oh hey, Sheriff, how are you?” Chris says, wincing at how excessively casual he sounds. _‘Jesus fucking Christ ,Chris, get a grip you are a grown man.’_

“I’m good thank you, well busy as usual but I can’t complain. How about yourself? You look good.” The Sheriff replies, his eyes crinkling with his smile.

“Umm, yeah I am good actually, um thank you too I guess, I feel good. I, um, yeah I’ve…” Chris stutters, _‘I’ve actually fallen in love with your son and he’s pretty much teaching me how to love life again, but hey maybe it’s just the way he can suck my brain out through my dick that’s doing that. Shut the fuck up Chris, that is not helpful.’_

“I’ve been working out again and well um,” _‘Say something about Victoria, say you are finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.’_ “I, um, I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, you know what I mean Sheriff?”

“Oh I know, yes of course, hey and call me John please.”

“John sorry of course.”

“Stiles was talking about you the other day actually.”

If the Sheriff can detect the moment the bottom falls out of Chris’ stomach his face doesn’t reveal a thing.

“Oh umm, Stiles really, all good things I um hope?”

“He was obsessed with finding that book you asked him to get, something about witches, I’m not entirely sure. He said that you’d been spending some time together. He’s helping to sort out your collection of books, or something. I can’t remember exactly, sorry he tells me so many things I get a little confused over who is the flavour of the month with my boy.” The Sheriff smiles in that ‘you know what I mean, you’re a parent too’ way, that makes Chris wish the ground would swallow him up.

“Oh yeahhh…yes he’d come to see Allison, and I was in the middle of clearing out my library, he said he was interested in taking a look. Great kid, really, very umm, smart.”

“Oh thank you, yeah sometimes a little too smart for his own good. Hey I’ll let you get on, but um maybe we could grab a drink one night, a sort of old man’s club? I could do with talking to someone who isn’t from work.”

“Ahhh old man, ha, um…”

“Not that you are old, sorry Chris, jesus you’re at least 10 years younger than me, there I go again putting my foot in it. Sorry, just forget I said anything.” The Sheriff looks awkwardly down at his hands then up at Chris face again.

“No, no don’t apologise, I would love to go for a drink sometime, it would be good. I work from home so yeah it would be good to get out. Just give me a call sometime, you umm have my number, right?” _‘Or you could always look at your son’s phone, get my number from there, but please don’t read any of the messages or in fact listen to the rather graphic voicemail I left him last month when I was horny and drunk, out of town on business.’_

“Great, great, um I’m sure I have it saved on my phone. Well good to see you Chris.”

“Yeah you too Sher…John.”

Chris all but runs to the cashier, he hands over his credit card, pays and drives home without even registering he’s done so.

Needless to say dinner with Allison is a tad on the awkward side.

-

At 10.15pm Chris pulls up to the corner and Stiles hops into the passenger side of the SUV.

“So I heard that you saw my dad at the Home Depot.” He holds back a smirk.

“It’s not funny Stiles, he asked me to join an old man’s drinking club…with him. So we could drink and be old together. He wants to drink whiskey with me and talk about the good old days and all I want is to do filthy, filthy things to his son, his seventeen year-old son.”

Chris stares out at the road his hands fixed on the steering wheel, he looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Oh babe it wasn’t that bad. He said he felt terrible that he offended you, I told him you were forty-two and he felt even worse, said that forty-two was still young, he couldn’t believe he’d lumped you two together. Seriously baby, just forget about it.”

Stiles snakes a hand across Chris’ thigh and squeezes the meaty flesh.

“Stiles don’t, I’m kind of freaked out here.”

“Oh come on, it’s ok my Dad is cool, it’ll be fine. Just drive me somewhere I believe I have an appointment on my knees with your cock in my mouth. Don’t I Sir?”

“Ohhh fuck, don’t, please…” Chris groans out.

“But Sir I thought about it all afternoon, I thought about sucking on your cock, you forcing me to take more than I could cope with. Your fat cock pushing into my throat, your hands in my hair, tugging and fucking into my face.” Stiles runs his palm over the growing bulge in Chris’ jeans. The older man doesn’t even respond he just throws the car into drive and speeds away.

-

Chris is lying against the back seat of his car, the leather sticking slightly to his sweaty skin. Stiles pulls himself up from where he was awkwardly kneeling in the foot-well.

“Shit I can’t feel my left foot, I hope your dick is happy, that blowjob cost me my foot.” He playfully moans.

“Oh baby, don’t be like that, come here.” Chris shuffles over so that Stiles can just about lie down next to him.

“It was definitely worth a left foot, but maybe not quite the level of a right foot. Can I do anything to make it up to you?” Chris adds a ridiculously cute wink to his question.

“Well there is this little problem, maybe you could help me out.”

“What, this problem…” Chris runs his fingertip against the prominent bulge in Stiles’ sweatpants, he then traces up the hard line and uses his thumb to circle the head.

“Fuckkk…yep that would be the problem.”

Chris pulls the waistband away from Stiles’ body.

“Umm my baby went commando, fuck I love it when you do that.” Chris kisses the side of Stiles’ cheek, as he lets his hand curl into a fist around Stiles’ bare, stiff cock. He pumps a couple of times, slowly teasing a few drops of precome from the tip.

“Ahhh Chris, oh man please harder…need more.”

“Umm maybe I want it slow, maybe I want you writhing and needy for me, you like that, you like me taking care of you.” Chris emphasizes his point with a twist of his wrist as he pulls off Stiles’ cock.

“Fuckkk…”

Chris nuzzles against Stiles throat, maneuvers himself so he’s hovering above Stiles’ prone body.

“Look at you half asleep, dressed for fucking bed, your cock weeping and needy, your sweatpants down around your thighs.” Chris pushes himself up higher above Stiles, he digs his knees onto either side of the boy, and he uses the seat to hold himself up.

“Pull up your shirt, show yourself to me…that’s it, good boy. Play with your nipples, make then nice and wet and hard for me. There, like that.”

“Errrr, man…Chris need you to touch me, fuck please I need it.”

Stiles tweaks and pulls at his little buds one in each hand, he brings his fingers to his lips to wet them.

“That’s a good boy, do as I say and I’ll let you come. Nice and wet now.”

Stiles groans and rolls his hips with want, he tries to keep his focus on Chris but his eyes feel heavy with lust and the need to come.

“Keep playing with them, good.” Chris hoists Stiles hips up, with one hand pulls down one leg of his sweats so that they hang limply from one ankle and pushes the teens knees up towards his chest. Stiles lets out an ‘ummph’ as the air leaves his lungs. Chris shuffles himself backwards as far as possible then lowers his mouth to the teen’s leaking cock.

Any thought of how uncomfortable this position is leaves Stiles’ brain the moment Chris’ mouth sucks him in.

“Fuuuuckkkkkkk me…please…please….oh fuck….Chris.”

The hunter lets the cock slide from his lips. “Oh no, you keep playing with those nubs, want to feel your body come with your finger tweaking them and my tongue in your ass.”

Stiles’ hips lurch forward at that, pushing his knees further into his chest. He struggles to find his nipple but eventually pinches the right nub between his left thumb and forefinger.

“Good boy, now you get your treat.” Chris smirks as he lowers his mouth to Stiles’ exposed backside.

Teasingly slowly Chris licks around Stiles’ hole, he runs the tip of his tongue over the puckered skin, letting Stiles get use to the intimate feeling.

“Oh shit, fuck, fuck, fuck…Chris.”

Chris pushes gently against the muscle, teasing just the tip inside; he looks down the slightly contorted line of his lover’s body and locks his stare with Stiles. Not breaking eye contact Chris pushes further inside the boy’s body, curling the tip of his tongue and licking at the inside.

“OH MY GOD!”

A smile breaks across Chris’ face and he pulls away from the twitching little hole, he resumes his pattern of licking in and around the muscle, letting the tension build and build in the younger man’s body.

When he can see and feel how close his lover is to coming Chris seals his mouth around the tight little hole and sucks hard, and then he licks and nips at the rim. Stiles can’t even distinguish between which sensation he is feeling the most, his nipples feel tender, they ache with pleasure, his cock is hard as rock and dripping precome steadily against his chest and his ass feels incredible, weird, slightly violate, but incredible. Without even realizing it his orgasm washes over him, it feels like it starts from right at his centre and crashes through his whole body. He shudders gently under Chris’ mouth and a low, deep groan rumbles out of his chest, as he empties himself all over his chest

As he comes back to reality he can still feel the tingly in his toes and fingers. Chris slowly sits back and helps the boy move into a more comfortable position. With his legs stretched out and resting over Chris’ thighs Stiles lets out a contented yawn.

Chris smirks down at the teenager. The older man looks ridiculously sexy; his lips are swollen, his hair messed up, sticking out at a variety of angles and the neck of his white v-neck is pulled and stretched out, exposing the tanned, freckled skin on his shoulder.

“Did you like that baby?” He asks Stiles softly, letting his finger run gently up the teen’s sensitive shaft. Stiles draws in a breath and smiles lazily at his lover.

“Ummmmm hummmmm.”

Chris lets out a chuckle, and then lets his hand drop slightly coming to rest on the teen’s naked hip. “You look like sin personified, you know that? You look like every dream I’ve ever had, fuck Stiles, so fucking hot.”

“You’re the hot one, I’m just the nerd…umm sleepy nerd, take me home please Sir.”

“Grrrrrrr….Stiles.” Chris lets out a half groan, half whine then leans over to roughly kiss the boy’s obscenely swollen mouth. He pulls back then slaps his hand against Stiles’ fleshy upper thigh.

“Right young man, home time tidy yourself up.” He says with a grin.

  



	13. Seeking Comfort Part Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big reveal...one down one to go...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this, all the comments and support are making me one very happy camper. Your love is feeding my filthy porn writing habit so thank you kindly; all the Stiles/Chris porn daydreams are making work excellent/awkward! :)

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part Thirteen  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent, Scott/Alison mentioned, Derek/Stiles suggested, Chris/OMC  
 **Rating:** NC-17, though no sexy times in this chapter, sorry :(  
 **Summary:** The big reveal...one down one to go...  
 **Author notes:** Thanks for sticking with this, all the comments and support are making me one very happy camper. Your love is feeding my filthy porn writing habit so thank you kindly; all the Stiles/Chris porn daydreams are making work excellent/awkward! :)  
  


The weekend before Stiles’ birthday they decide to tell their respective families. Stiles is up in Chris’ bedroom, he’d come straight here after school. They’d spent the afternoon lazily making out and getting each other off. The mood was quiet between them, it felt too much like a goodbye for Stiles.

There’s a light knock on the door.

“Hey baby.”

“Why did you knock Chris it’s your room?” Stiles says with a smirk, he walks over to place a soft kiss on his lovers lips.

“Sorry, yeah I don’t know why, just nervous I guess.” Chris also smirks. He ducks his head and scrubs his palm over the short hair on his neck. He looks so nervous and on edge that it sort of makes Stiles’ heart break.

“I love you Chris, whatever happens that won’t change ok.”

Chris takes the boy’s hands into his and leans forward, pressing a kiss onto Stiles’ slightly parted mouth.

“I love you too baby boy.”

-

Allison strolls into the kitchen.

“Stiles what are you doing here? My Dad called a “special dinner” so I can’t hang out tonight, sorry.”

“Oh um…” Stiles starts.

“It’s ok Allison, I invited him.” Chris steps up behind the boy.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Allison’s face crumples in confusion.

“Come on honey let’s go sit down.

-

Scott joins them in the living room a few minutes later.

“Stiles man, cool why are you here?” The boy slaps his best friend on the shoulder before joining his girlfriend on the sofa.

Stiles doesn’t answer, actually he can’t answer because his stomach is currently wrapped around his vocal cords and he sort of thinks he’ll vomit if he opens his mouth.

“Scott, Stiles is here because I asked him to be.”

“Why do you keep saying that Dad, why do you keep saying it in that way? What the hell is going on?” Allison asks again looking increasingly troubled.

Scott puts his hand on Allison’s knee, shifting his gaze between the two sofas.

“OH MY GOD!” He yelps out suddenly.

“What, what the hell Scott? Dad? Stiles? Will somebody please tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“Allison language.” Chris says before he thinks better of it.

“Seriously Dad.” Allison replies incredulously.

“You smell like Mr. Argent! Oh man, I thought you’d smelt different but I couldn’t figure out who it was or why. Then you were smiling all the time and your meds seemed to be working so much better; so I figured just let it be, Stiles will tell me when he’s ready. Seriously dude Mr. Argent?” Scott half chuckles, half winces as he says it.

“Yes Scott, in your rather um, ineloquent way you worked it out. Allison sweetheart Stiles and I are um…” Chris looks over at his lover and takes the teen’s hand into his. He threads their fingers together before looking up at his daughter. “Stiles and I are together, and umm…we are in love.”

“I…I’m sorry Allison.” Stiles mumbles. He doesn’t make eye contact with anyone, just stares fixedly at his and Chris’ hands.

Scott leaps to his feet and pulls his best friend into a full body hug,

“I’m so happy for you man, I mean it’s a bit weird but you’re happy, really happy I can just sense it. Mr. Argent too.”

Chris gets to his feet and smiles at the hugging boys. Scott lets go of Stiles and awkwardly puts his hand out to Chris. Raising an eyebrow Chris shakes the goofy teenagers hand, but lets a smile break upon his face.

Scott goes in for another hug with Stiles and Chris steps closer to his daughter.

“Allison?” He asks timidly.

Allison is broken out of her reverie and blinks back the tears she knows are forming in her eyes; she stands up and straightens out her skirt before fleeing and charging upstairs to her room.

The men all gaze at each other in a mix of shock and sadness.

“I’ll go…” Scott begins.

“No son, I’ll go. I need to talk to her.” Chris interrupts, and then swiftly leaves the room.

-

Chris knocks softly on his daughter’s door, he doesn’t wait for a reply before stepping inside.

“At least I remembered to knock.” He says with a smile, trying, hoping to break the tension.

“Alli sweetheart, please say something.”

He goes over to where Allison is standing by the window and gently rests his hand on her shoulder. She tenses a little but doesn’t move away.

“I just, um, I just never really thought. I don’t know Dad, I just…Stiles?”

“Yes sweetie Stiles. As odd as it may seem I do genuinely love him and I think, well I know, he feels the same way. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I well, it’s complicated, but I couldn’t rush it. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen between him and I. I was selfish too I guess once we’d, you and I, started to spend time together again and you seemed to like me again, I didn’t want to do anything to ruin that. Um, if you can’t deal with this Allison I’ll end it with him, whatever you want you are my daughter and you come first baby.”

Chris swallows, tries to keep his cool even though he feels like his world might shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

Allison turns to face her father.

“Oh Dad, I love you so much and I’ve always _liked_ you, you are my whole family.” Allison blinks a couple of times and sniffs hard trying to keep the tears at bay, but its futile, as soon as she looks into her fathers eyes she bursts out crying.

Chris pulls his little girl into his arms and strokes down her long soft hair.

“I love you Alli, I love you so much.”

“I love you too Dad.” She sniffles against her father’s strong shoulder.

The pair of them stay like that, silent and wrapped in a warm embrace for a while. Allison moves her head a little and clears her throat.

“I…I’m gonna need a little time. Um to get my head around it I mean, but um, I’m happy for you Dad. I’m happy you’ve found someone that makes you happy.”

Chris closes his eyes, a couple of tears run down his cheeks and he processes her words.

“Thank you baby, thank you so much.”

He kisses her head and both Argents let out a chuckle.

“Oh man what a pair, crying like babies…ahh has my mascara run, I think I got snot on your shirt.”

“Ha, no baby, no you look beautiful, you always do.” Chris says as he cups his daughters face and presses a kiss into her cheek.

Allison sniffs and wipes at her eyes. “I guess we should probably head back down stairs, put Stiles out of his misery.”

-

“So dude is he like all wrinkly and shit…does he need Viagra to get it up?”

“Jesus Scott, no and no, seriously it’s none of your goddamn business. He’s practically your father in law you sick fuck.” Stiles throws a cushion at his best friends head.

“I’m just trying to understand dude, I mean I get he’s attractive in an older man kinda way, but you could be with anyone. Why him?”

Stiles looks over at Scott’s suddenly serious face. He scrubs his hand awkwardly through his hair then replies.

“He listens to me, understands me. He’s…err…he’s everything I need.” Stiles goes a little glassy eyed, but the sound of footsteps on the stairs makes his stomach drop to the floor.

Scott gets to his feet anxious to see if his girlfriend is ok, Stiles twists his hands together and tries to disappear into the couch.

Allison and Chris walk into the room, Chris presses a kiss on Allison’s temple before letting go of his daughter. 

The teenager lovers make eye contact and Allison is quick to reassure Scott.

“I’m fine babe really, I’m ok.”

Allison turns to face Stiles on the couch.

“I owe you an apology Stiles, I shouldn’t have stormed out of here like that.” She goes to sit down next to her friend. “I can’t promise that I’ll ever really get it and I’m…I’m still not one hundred percent comfortable with it. I just need some time to get my head around it. But I’m pleased for you, both of you, you make my Dad happy and um, he hasn’t been happy in a while, so thank you.”

“Don’t thank me Allison, please don’t. Umm I’m sorry I made things weird between you guys, he loves you so much Allison, I don’t want to ruin anything you guys have so please just be honest with me. I can handle it, even if…” Stiles gulps and takes a quick glance up to his lover. “Even if it mean not seeing Chris anymore.”

Allison rolls her eyes and pulls him into a hug.

“Shut up you idiot, I’ll be fine with it, ok I just need a little time. You guys aren’t, um well you aren’t exactly an obvious match ok!”

Stiles smiles over her shoulder at Chris; his face beaming with relief and joy.

“Thank you Allison, that makes me so happy.” He whispers into her ear.

-

  



	14. Seeking Comfort Part Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit went south pretty damn fast...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hello and sorry for the radio silence on the fic front, I'm back with a wee update today, it's a short but punchy little chapter, that I hope will please you. I've been a little caught up in real life, I'm happy to report that it's because I found a lovely boy of my own and it hasn't left much time for writing :) I will finish this story I promise, though it won't be quite at the speed or consistency it was before Christmas. Thank you once again for sticking with it, your comments and kudos really pushed me to continue.

**Title:** Seeking Comfort Part Fourteen  
 **Author:** Caoscalmo  
 **Fandom | Disclaimer:** None  
of this is real, I've borrowed the characters from Teen Wolf and the  
lovely Jeff Davis. This takes place post Kanima, Warning Spoilers for  
Season 2  
 **Pairing(s) | Character(s):** Stiles/Chris Argent, Scott/Alison mentioned, Derek/Stiles suggested, Chris/OMC  
 **Rating:** NC-17, though no sexy times in this chapter, sorry :(  
 **Summary:** Shit went south pretty damn fast...  
 **Author notes:** So hello and sorry for the radio silence on the fic front, I'm back with a wee update today, it's a short but punchy little chapter, that I hope will please you. I've been a little caught up in real life, I'm happy to report that it's because I found a lovely boy of my own and it hasn't left much time for writing :) I will finish this story I promise, though it won't be quite at the speed or consistency it was before Christmas. Thank you once again for sticking with it, your comments and kudos really pushed me to continue.

-  


Stiles’ phone beeps for the second time in five minutes. They had only just left Chris’ house and Scott had already sent Stiles a gleeful little message of congratulations. Stiles opens the message expecting another ‘Bromance’ filled text but instead the message is from Issac. It reads;

“Dude you and Argent, what the fuck? Does that mean Derek’s fair game now? Or are you two still dancing around each other?”

Stiles stares down at his phone in disbelief.

“What’s the matter?” Chris asks.

“Um, it’s nothing, well Issac just asked me if Derek was fair game now that I’m with you. What the hell? There was no me and Derek, I mean I have no say over who he chooses to fuck, do I?” Stiles rolls his eyes and glances up towards Chris’ tense face.

“Do I, Chris?”

“No of course you don’t, though Derek wanted you probably still does, fucker.” Chris snarls.

“Baby, I’m yours, completely and utterly yours, Derek means nothing to me anymore. He never really did.”

Stiles reaches his hand over the bench and squeezes the meat of Chris’ thigh causing a smile to spread across the older man face.

“I love you baby boy.” Chris says covering Stiles’ hand with his own.

They drive in comfortable, familiar silence as they approach the Stilinski residence. Chris smoothly pulls up along the sidewalk, but both men refuse to move.

“It’ll be ok baby, Alli took it well I’m sure your dad will too.” Chris says with a weak smile.

“Umm…” Is all Stiles can reply.

-

“Dad? Dad where are you?” Stiles sheepishly calls out.

“Hey son, I’m in the den, can you grab me another beer on your way?” The Sheriff replies.

“Ok well he sounds a little buzzed, that’s probably good for us, right?” Stiles says as he wraps his hands around the hunters firm, narrow waist. Chris leans forward and kisses the teenager’s forehead.

Stiles’ pulls a beer from the fridge, offering one to Chris, though the hunter shakes his head in refusal.

“I’m not gonna drink his beer as well as fuck his son.” The older man says with a smirk.

“Haven’t fucked me yet Mr?!” Stiles says as he playfully slaps Chris’ arse. The smile falls from Stiles’ lips as he approaches the door to the Sheriff’s den. The TV is on low in the background, the muffle cheers and boos from a baseball game his dad is rewatching.

“Hey Dad.” Stiles says as he hands the Sheriff his beer.

“Thanks son…oh hey Chris, what can we do for you?” The Sheriff asks straightening himself up in the worn out lazy-boy he’s reclining in.

“Umm, actually Dad, Chris is here with me…umm we’ve got something to talk to you about.”

The Sheriff puts down his beer on the coffee table pulling his chair into the upright position.

“Oh right, well what’s this all about?” Confusion clouds the older man’s face as he looks between Chris and Stiles. Chris coughs nervously, obviously searching for the right words; before he has a chance to say anything Stiles grabs hold of his hand interlacing their fingers. The hunter instinctively looks into the teenager’s eyes and smiles at his lover.

“What’s going on here? WHAT THE HELL IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” The Sheriff is on his feet marching over to the pair before either of them can say anything.

“Argent what the fuck do you think you are doing holding my son’s hand?”

“Dad calm down ok, please calm down.” Stiles drops Chris’ hand and moves towards his father.

“Chris and I are together, we love each other and we don’t want to keep it a secret anymore.”

The Sheriff takes a step back from Stiles, looking at his son with eyes full of horror and disbelief.

“In love? Secret…How long, Jesus, Stiles how long has this been going on?”

“Umm…a few months Dad, we wanted to tell you, we just…I mean, I just, I, Dad I love him and he loves me.”

The Sheriff rubs his hands across his temple and squeezes the bridge of his nose tightly.

Stiles looks hopefully over to Chris, maybe just maybe this will be ok.

When the Sheriff looks back up at the pair his face is stern, his neck is flushed bright red and his fists clenched by his sides.

“I think you should leave now Argent, I want you to get the fuck away from my teenage son, you fucking pedophile. Leave now before I take you down the station and have you fucking arrested, you hear me, LEAVE NOW!” His voice rises and gets tighter the angrier he gets.

“Dad no, please we haven’t, oh god Dad, look we haven’t slept together.”

“Please Sir, believe me when I tell you that I have not had sex with your son, we, um, we are…”

“GET OUT.”

The sheriff storms from the room, Stiles and Chris look at each other anxiously.

“Maybe I should go Stiles, let him cool off a bit.” Chris says placing a hand on the teenagers shoulder. Just as Stiles is about to reply their attention is pulled towards the doorway and the sound of a shotgun being cocked.

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY SON AND GET OFF MY FUCKING PROPERTY.”

“Fuck, Dad what the hell? Stop this now, you’re being completely irrational.” Stiles attempts to plead.

“No, no I’m going to leave. OK Sheriff, I’m going to leave you in peace. Let you and Stiles talk about this.”

Chris looks towards Stiles but doesn’t dare touch the boy again before he quickly ducks out of the door.

“Chris, what the…Dad, I can’t fucking believe you.” Stiles’ head whips back and forth between his shotgun-carrying father and the closed door Chris just walked through.

“What the hell Dad? I thought you would understand, I thought you would at least let me explain this, talk to you. You pulled out your fucking shotgun…I can’t.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me Stiles, not right now I just can’t fucking handle it ok. Just leave me alone, just fucking leave me alone.” The Sheriff places the shotgun on the coffee table before resignedly walking over to the liquor cabinet and pouring a large measure of whiskey into one of the glass.

“Dad…” Stiles pleads.  
“Get out Stiles, just leave please.” The Sheriff replies, not turning to face his son.

“Please Dad. Just let me explain, let me tell you about him.”

The Sheriff turns to face his son, fist clench tight around the whiskey glass.

“Stiles, I cannot and I will not listen to you tell me about you and that man. I don’t want to know, now please don’t push me on this, don’t make me say or do something I regret. OK?”

Stiles looks at his father, mouth agape and eyes filling with tears, before he turns and also leaves the room.

-

“Chris I really fucking need you to pick up your phone right now? Where are you, I need you, I really fucking need you.”

Stiles throws his phone down onto the passenger seat of the jeep after leaving his fifth voicemail for Chris.

The rain pounds against his windscreen and the road blurs through his tears. Stiles turns the familiar bend on the way to the cemetery, but a tall dark figure is stood in the middle of the road. Panicked Stiles pulls hard on the wheel to avoid the thing, he jeep swerves into the side of the road and rolls twice.

Stiles blinks through the blood dripping down his forehead, as he looks through the broken side window a shadowy tall figure comes into view. He promptly loses consciousness.


	15. Seeking Comfort Part Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought it only fair to finish this, life has been full of ups and downs for the last 2 years, but you guys have been reading this and asking me to finish it. So apologies for the delay, hopefully it'll go how you hoped.
> 
> I'm just writing and seeing where this goes. I haven't watched teen wolf in years so have no idea what's going on, so this is super from my own filthy mind.

Stiles wakes up with a shiver and a pain shooting across his shoulders. He realises quickly he’s naked from the waist up and each wrist is tied and pulled wide apart, holding him up as if to be crucified. 

“Sir, sir the boy’s awake, he’s awake.” A voice all but screams from the corner of the room, though as Stiles’ eyes adjust to the darkness he would call it more of a cave.

There is the heavy thud of footsteps coming closer, Stiles’ heart quickens within his ribcage.

“Ahhh Mr Stilinski nice of you to join us, sorry for the theatrics and the ummm…well the slightly over the top shackles.” The figure flicks his wrist to indicate the crude but effective frame that Stiles is currently strapped to.

Stiles goes to speak but the man’s eyes glow red and no sound escapes from his mouth. 

“Yes, yes I think it best if I do the talking for a little while.” The tall figure says in a heavy English accent. “You see Mr Stilinski, or can I call you Stiles?” With a wave of his hand he makes Stiles head nod in confirmation. Stiles grinds his teeth in annoyance and his nostrils flare is frustration.

“Aww yes you are quiet adorable when you get angry, I can see why Chris wanted you.” 

Stiles flinches at the mention of Chris. “Ahh yes dear boy your lover and I, well I wouldn’t call us old chums, no, not chums, let’s just say we go way back.”

The figure steps closer to Stiles, finally revealing the stranger’s face in the dim candlelight. Stiles’ eyes widen not through recognition but through an odd mix of fear and awe, the man is stunning there is no other word for it. His jaw is chiselled and strong, covered with stubble, his mouth is wide and looks friendly when he smiles but evil as soon as the smile drops. His eyes are big, open and icy blue sitting atop of his quite large nose, a nose that would look comically large on anyone else’s face, but on his wide open face it looks perfect and manly. Stiles was bought up on Disney films, and had he not known for a fact that this man had just kidnapped him and tied him up semi naked, he would’ve put good money of this guy being the goddamn Disney prince swooping in at the end to save the day.

As if reading his thoughts the guy leans in closer, dipping his eyes down, looking falsely modest. 

“Aww Stiles that’s too sweet; but you should know something.” At that the guys eyes once again flare red and Stiles feels a searing pain deep in his stomach, it’s the worst pain he’s ever felt, he opens his mouth to scream but nothing comes out. 

“I might look like the good guy but there is nothing good left in me, your lover took everything that was good and destroyed it, he thought he had destroyed me too but he only made me stronger.” He says with a blink, the pain immediately disappearing from Stiles’ prone body. 

“My name is Garrick Emmerson III, and your love Mr Stilinski, the man you hold so dear, destroyed everything in my life, he took every single thing I loved and he ruined it. I’ve waited 20 years to gain my revenge, I’ve watched and I’ve waited and I’ve grown. Then one day I saw him with you and I knew exactly what I would do.”

The smile that grows across Garrick’s face fills Stiles with sheer, profound dread.

“Oh Stiles, don’t look so sad, we are going to have so much fun, so much fun.”

Garrick turns quickly on his heel. “Cleaver wash and dress the boy, then bring him to my quarters.”

“Yes, yes sir of course sir.”

With that Garrick strides out of the room and a small human like creature shuffles into the light.

His face is pale and weak looking, his hair limp and hanging, he stands about 5ft high and is skinny, he wears an amulet around his neck that flashes and glints in the candlelight. 

“What are you looking at boy?” Cleaver says as he slaps Stiles’ leg. 

“Nothing, nothing…sorry.” Stiles mutters, relieved he finally has his voice back. 

Cleaver looks at Stiles and rubs the amulet once, with a thud Stiles falls to the floor the frame and shackles have disappeared. He looks up at Cleaver and quickly sees an opportunity to flee. Stiles pushes against the floor but his wrists buckle beneath him, “What the…”

“I may look stupid and weak boy, but I know what I’m doing. There’s no point in even trying to escape, there is no where for you to go, Master has made sure of that.” Cleaver says with a sick joy in his voice.

“Now follow me, Master will want you cleaned first.”

\- -

Stiles’ body is completely under the small evil looking man’s control, with one swipe of the amulet Stiles walks, steps, crouches and bends to his every whim.

“Take the rest of your clothes off now.” Cleaver barks at him.

Stiles blushes, realising that although he cannot run, Cleaver wants him to do this of his own free will, his arms are under his own control.

“I have no desire to look at you boy trust me.” Cleaver snarls and with that aggressively pulls at the waistband of his loose trousers. He reveals a thick ugly looking scar across his pelvis where presumably his genitals used to be.

Stiles lets out a pained gasp. “Yes, yes, looks horrid doesn’t it, well hurry up now take your bloody clothes off before Master gets annoyed.”

Stunned and so confused that his head hurts Stiles undoes his dirty jeans and pulls them and his boxers down to the floor.

“Good good, step in.” Cleaver points to a shower stall to the end of the room. “Just stand still I have to clean you, otherwise you won’t be up to Master’s standard.”

The man rubs at his amulet and a water spray of water falls out of nowhere drenching Stiles’ body. Suddenly Stiles feels a rough soapy sponge being swiped and rubbed all over his body as the smaller man cleans him like his a goddamn car.

“Turn.” 

Stiles’ body once again moves without his permission. Cleaver continues to scrub away at his body, avoiding Stiles’ cock and balls until every other part of him is clean.

Another swipe of the amulet turns the sponge into a thick soft looking cloth. With an unexpectedly gentle hand Cleaver strokes Stiles’ cock, he goes down to his knees and gentle lifts up his shaft and cleans all over and around the area. Stiles’ eyes are squeezed tightly shut and he thinks of all the nastiest thoughts he can. It’s hopeless though, every swipe and motion from that cloth feels like heaven on his cock, he can’t even remember where he is or why he felt worried about anything, all he can think about is that soft silky cloth wrapping around his length and all he can see is that strong chiselled face in his mind.

Dreamily Stiles lets Cleaver dress him in some loose pants and a shirt, both are soft against his skin and make him feel safe and comforted. The smaller man leads Stiles up some stairs, Stiles’ mind feels groggy, he knows something isn’t right but he can’t remember what and he knows he’s never been here before wherever here is but he can’t seem to be worried about that right now.

Cleaver knocks at a large wooden door and clears his throat. “The boy is ready Sir.”

The door swings open; Cleaver pushes Stiles through the door. At one end of the room is a huge open fire burning with a large fur rug on the floor and a leather armchair, and towards the other end is a huge expensive looking bed at the base of which sits a large heavy looking chest. Garrick is stood at the foot of the bed peering into the chest. 

“Good boy Cleaver, you may retire to your room for the night, I trust you used the correct cloth as instructed?” 

“Yes Sir, there was no resistance as you suspected, he’s very, very malleable, very malleable indeed!” Cleaver says with an almost giggle.

“Good, good. Thank you Cleaver, goodnight.” Garrick says as he strokes the smaller mans head almost like he were petting a beloved dog. 

Once they are alone Stiles feels the taller man take hold of his shoulder and guide him over to the fireplace. Stiles is trying so hard to remember why he was worried, but the fire feels so warm against his skin and Garrick’s hand feels safe and firm on his shoulder.

“Sit on the rug for me Stiles, there’s a good boy. I want to talk to you a little more.” Stiles doesn’t respond just feels his body sinking down and then the soft fur is beneath his hands, he sits crossed legged, his face gazing up at the larger man who’s now sat in the chair.

Garrick swirls the whiskey around the glass three times clockwise then three times anticlockwise before he takes a mouthful.

“You know Stiles you are very beautiful, I can see why Chris likes you so much. So young and pliant, you are a very special boy indeed.” Garrick says with a glint in his eye. “Would you like a sip of my whiskey?”

Stiles nods his head dumbly. Garrick leans down and places a hand on Stiles’ chin positioning the edge of the glass to the boy’s puffy lips and tipping the glass up. The whiskey burns Stiles tongue but he swallows without making a sound, tears springing to his eyes. It’s as if the whiskey cleared the haze in his mind but totally froze his body, without even trying Stiles knows he cannot move. 

“Where’s Chris? Why am I here? What do you want? Where am I? What have you done to Chris? Please don’t hurt me. Please let me go…oh god…oh g…” In an instant his words are cut off. 

“Well I had hoped you wouldn’t be so clichéd but hey I thought I should at least give to a chance to speak and well it seemed rather dull to keep you always in a haze. A foggy mind can be so useful but a little tedious for my tastes. You see Stiles you are now my play thing, and I intend to play with you a great deal, but I really feel like you need to know why I have taken you as my play thing and for that my darling boy you will need to be fully aware of what I am telling you.” 

Garrick looks as Stiles expectantly then rolls his eyes. “If I let you speak it is only for you to say yes you understand ok, none of your snivelling.”

Stiles looks up at Garrick and tries his best to nod.

“Good.” Garrick replies with another flick of his wrist.

Stiles lets out a cough, it’s as if the air has flooded back into his body again.

“Do you understand Stiles?”

“Yeah.” Stiles snarls out.

“No, no, no boy, that won’t do, Stiles do you understand me?”

“Yes.I.Understand.You.” Stiles bites out, jaw clenched in anger.

Garrick rises to his feet.

“Stiles, look at me, I’m 6ft 6, I’m dressed completely in black, there are leather cuffs around each of my wrists and I have boots on that could crush your skull…I really thought the outfit alone would be enough but as apparently you cannot pick up on these subtle details.” Garrick lets out an exasperated sigh.

He flicks his wrist in Stiles’ direction, instantly Stiles is once again naked from the waist up, he’s on all fours with a thick leather collar around his neck and a heavy chain lead now attaches him to Garrick.

“I, boy, am your Master. Now you will address me as Sir or Master, you will only speak to me if given permission and you will never raise you voice to me. I control you Stiles, you can try and resist but it’s futile, Chris will slowly become a faded memory and I will take over your world. Now we can do this the nice, fun way or we can do this the hard way. Which do you prefer?” Garrick says tugging hard on the lead for effect.

Stiles jolts forward, looking up at the man he growls out “Fuck you, I’ll never forget Chris, fuck you, you fucke…” 

Once again his voice has gone taken from him, he glares up at Garrick anger filling his eyes.

“Oh you are going to be fun to break.” Garrick says as he throws back his head to laugh.


	16. Seeking Comfort Part Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all gotten quite dark in Stiles' world at the moment, will Chris ever be able to find him again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING - NON CON*** 
> 
> It starts to get a bit dark and filthy from here on in, if you've read my other stuff it won't be a shock, but just in case **sounds the siren **WARNING WARNING**
> 
> Just as a little visual guide I'm seeing Garrick as an especially sexy but evil looking Lee Pace, huge and menacing. ( I tried to get a photo for reference but that guy has one of the nicest friendliest goddamn faces in photos...haha....so imagine The Fall style Lee Pace, with dark eyes and lots of muscle.)

It’s 4 am Chris is still pacing across his hallway, he knows he shouldn’t have left Stiles to deal with his Dad alone, but he couldn’t cope with all the guilt, the look in Sheriff Stilinski’s eyes. It was all too much. He’d turned his phone off as soon as he’d gotten home; hoping that it would force Stiles to talk this through with his Dad, smooth things over. 

Chris turns the phone over in his hand, then gives in and presses the power button. He needs to speak to Stiles, he feels so embarrassed for walking away, he panicked. Fuck he knows messed up. 

He phone springs to life with a flurry of notifications, eleven missed calls and five voicemail messages.

“Fuck!” Chris curses himself.

He dials his voicemail.

The first couple of messages are awful, Stiles is nearly hysterical. Chris can barely make out what the boy is saying. He drops his head into his palms and feels tears spring to his eyes.

The last message is much clearer, Stiles just sounds angry and determined now.

“Chris I really fucking need you to pick up your phone right now? Where are you, I need you, I really fucking need you.”

Chris listens, there is a thud on the end of the line, Stiles must have thrown the phone against his passenger seat, Chris can hear the sound of the jeeps engine, and he can hear the noise of the wipers against the rain. Then he hears something that makes him want to throw up. Stiles lets out a panicked “Holy shit!” then there is the sound of the jeep swerving quickly, then the blood curdling sound of metal crunching and crashing.

Without thought Chris grabs the keys to his car and runs to the garage.

\--

The usual road that Stiles takes to Chris’ house is clear there is nothing out of place. The rain stopped a couple of hours ago but there are still puddles around. Chris wracks his brain, where else would Stiles have gone?

In the silence of the night Chris’ SUV lets out a screech as he pulls a u-turn and heads off towards to the cemetery at the far end of the woods. The roads are quiet; no one else is around Chris flicks the car lights to high beam. As he starts up the hill out of town he slows his driving down, his stomach is clenched tight and his knuckles are white on the steering wheel.

He notices the tire marks first; Stiles must have swerved for something, an animal or maybe even a fallen log. Chris’ heartbeat is thundering in his ears, his breath seems to be catching on every intake. As he takes the bend the jeep comes into view, eerily from a distance it looks just as though Stiles might have pulled at the side of the road, but as Chris gets closer he sees that one whole side is dented and battered, the drivers seat window is gone completely and there is blood on the front windscreen. 

Chris pulls out his phone and dials 911 but the sound goes from his ears, he feels as if he’s being pulled under water. He drops the phone realising he’s about to pass out, he drops to his knees and forces himself to take a deep breath, then another, then another. The hand on his shoulder startles him out of his trance; he swings wildly in its direction.

“Whoa, whoa, Chris calm down, it’s ok, it’s only me.” 

Chris looks up and sees Derek standing over him, his breathing is laboured and his face red and sweaty, he must have been out on watch. Chris scrambles to his feet.

“Stiles…Stiles was in the jeep, but he’s ummm…he’s ummm…he’s gone.”

Before he even finishes the sentence Derek is over at the jeep sniffing and tracing over every last smell or clue. 

“He’s been gone a few hours, there are two other scents here I don’t recognise at all.” He looks over to Chris. “They don’t smell human though.”

“He was alive though right, he was alive when they took him?” Chris almost pleads.

“Yes Chris, yeah he was alive.”

\- -

Within an hour there are police cars and people everywhere, Alison and Scott arrived first, then Issac. The Sheriff arrived last looking exhausted and smelling pretty heavily of whiskey.

He strides over to Chris.

“What the fuck have you done with him? Where is he you fucker…bring him back.” Sheriff Stilinski sobs. 

“Hey Sheriff, come on now, lets go look at the jeep, I think the guys over there need to ask you a few questions.” Scott steps in and guides the Sheriff away from Chris.

“Fuck Allison, what have I done, I don’t know where he is, I turned my fucking phone off he could be anywhere by now.” Chris buries his head into his daughters shoulder wanting the world to swallow him up.

\- -

Stiles wakes up with his face against fur, his head hurts like hell and as he raises his hand to his forehead he feels a lump.

“Didn’t your father ever tell you not to poke bruises? Anyway I’m glad you are awake now, honestly I thought I was going to have to wake you up myself.”

Garrick is sat in the armchair, gone are the dramatic black clothes of last night instead he’s wearing what look like work out pants, they look soft and loose around his waist, he is shirtless and each of his muscles look worked and pumped.

“Yes they do look good don’t they?” He says whilst flexing his pecs. Stiles shakes his head, frowns and looks away from the man’s oversized body.

“Aww don’t be like that my darling boy…come here I want to tell you a story now you are well rested.”

Stiles doesn’t move; he cannot stand this man, his stupid English accent and false friendliness, his ridiculous good looks and stupid body. Stiles just wants to go home, he just wants Chris to tell him this will all be ok. Garrick pulls him out of this thought with a sharp tug at the chain still latched onto the collar sitting round Stiles’ neck.

Stiles stumbles to his feet and is pulled over to the chair.

“There we go, just takes a little persuasion doesn’t it.” Garrick says with a glint in his eye. The older man taps his thigh expectantly. Stiles ignores him looking over to the door instead.

“Oh gosh you are a stubborn little thing aren’t you?” Garrick says as he waves his hand quickly in the direction of Stiles’ body. Then like a puppet master he moves his hands as if moving the strings and Stiles climb onto the older mans lap.

“There we go, much better.” A large hand slides along Stiles’ bare spine. Stiles growls his disapproval, trying his best not to flinch. 

“Aww you really are adorable, I cannot wait for you to be this loyal to me.” Garrick says as his hand reaches that base of Stiles’ back, he lets his hand fall and come to rest just gently cradling Stiles’ arse.

“So as stubborn as you are I’m sure you must be intrigued, who is this devilishly handsome man and why has he taken such a boring little boy like you? Well dear Stiles it’s quite, quite simple 20 years ago your precious Christopher took the only thing I loved and he destroyed it. So I will take the one thing he loves the most and I'll destroy it. We were in France on holiday, my family had a house over there and each summer we would go. I knew my family were different, I grew up with magic in my blood and in my life, but I also knew that I was different in more ways than that." Garrick pauses for a moment, blinks the red flare out of his eyes, looking away from Stiles, as if gathering up too many thoughts. "His name was Lucien, god I loved him, we met when we were 12 years old. He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” Garrick’s voice had taken on a wistful cadence, Stiles found himself being drawn towards the larger man, like he wanted to get closer. 

“He was 13 days older than me, his mother had died when he was 8 and his father drank heavily to forgot. Lucien blamed himself for her death said there was a darkness in him that he couldn’t control. I didn’t believe him, he as so beautiful and kind, we spent years wrapped up in each other. He was my first everything. He taught me all that I know, we were one in the same, he and I.”

Stiles feels his naked chest fall against Garrick’s their bodies slowly rising and falling together, he feels the comforting strokes of Garrick’s hand on his back.

“Good boy Stiles, there’s a good boy.” Garrick presses a kiss into the boy’s head. “He had dark brown eyes and in the summer his brown hair would turn blonde at the tips and his skin would look like heaven. My body was so pale compared to him. I was a sickly child too, he loved to tease me, but if I ever fell ill over the summer he would never leave my side. I knew he could be cruel, but he was never mean to me. My sister and brother were fair game; he would torment them so much, mostly for my pleasure. Mother and father didn’t approve of our friendship but knew there was nothing they could do about it.”

Garrick runs his fingers over Stiles scalp and without realising it Stiles begins to almost purr at the sensation.

“During each winter Lucien would send me messages, sometimes little things, then depending on his mood they would be a little more extravagant. He would say that he was lonely and bored and wanted to show how much he missed me, usually I would get a letter about once a week telling me to watch the news or watch the weather forecast on a certain day the following week, then there would be a flood or a bomb would explode somewhere, hundreds of people would died. He would blame my parents for taking me away from him. I loved him so much, I suppose now I should have seen how powerful he already was, how powerful he was for a 13 year old. But all I saw was love, how much he loved me.”

Stiles buried his head into the neck of the larger man and hummed a kind of sad acknowledgement though he wasn’t sure what for.

“I was 14 when we first kissed, three weeks before our family returned to France in the summer of ’91 a freak cyclone had hit Bangladesh, thousands of people were killed, harmed or homeless. The gestures had been growing in size, I began to crave them, the worst the destruction the more he loved me, and not as friends I was sure of it now. When we arrived and the car had not even stopped and I jumped from the rear seat and ran the length of the garden and over the fence towards his house. His father was passed out in the front room the TV blaring out oblivious. I took the stairs two at a time, I crashed through his door as he was putting his shirt on, his back was black and blue.” 

Stiles’ eyes close and when he blinks them open he’s in the little cramped bedroom somewhere in France.

“Lucien why do you let him to this to you?” Younger Garrick sobs.

“Shush now, that doesn’t matter you are here now my beauty, that’s all that matters.”

The taller French boy opens his arms to take Garrick.

“God I missed you so much.” Garrick rubs his face against Lucien’s breathing in the scent of the boy. Lucien’s hands hold onto each side of Garrick’s head and hold him still.

“You are mine Garrick, say you are mine.”

Garrick looks into the boys eyes, “Yours always, yours Lu, never going to leave your side.”

The French boy leans down capturing the smaller boys lips within his own. Stiles feels embarrassed to watch something so intimate and passionate, but he cannot draw his eyes away. They deepen the kiss it’s as if life is being breathed into them with each second that passes.

The image starts to fade and Stiles is slowly aware that he is back in the present and Garrick is now cradling him.

“Hey there, you ok?” Garrick says looking down at Stiles.

Stiles is so confused he doesn’t understand what’s going on, how can this man be evil, he’s so hurt and there was so much love between those two young boys.

“I think maybe that’s enough for today, hey?’ Garrick says with a smile.

The older man clicks his fingers and Cleaver appears.

“Some lunch I think Cleaver, thank you.”

Stiles shifts a little realising that he is still sat buried into the other man’s side.

“No, no you can stay here.” Garrick shifts his legs to move Stiles, but the moment has gone Stiles suddenly feels awkward and lost sat upon the lap of a man he barely knows wearing only a pair of pants and a coll…Stiles reaches to his neck, the collar has gone.

“Yes well I’m hoping we won’t need that again darling boy.” Stiles doesn’t know how to respond, he feels tired and his stomach bursts into a grumble, making him realised he hasn’t eaten in a day.

Cleaver returns with a tray of food and places it on a table that magically appears next to the armchair.

“Thank you my boy, you are relieved to go eat your own lunch.” Garrick says with a wave of his hand.

Stiles reaches over for the food.

“No!” Garrick shouts. Stiles recoils back against the arm of the chair and looks up at the man.

“I shall feed you, you are mine, I shall feed you.” Garrick repeats.

Stiles can feel a blush burn his cheeks. He really doesn’t understand what’s going on here, he doesn’t feel anything down there, so he’s pretty sure Garrick hasn’t raped him. Apart from that weird cloth in the shower the bizarre little dude hasn’t touched him. Now Garrick wants to feed him. His brain hurts, he just doesn’t get it, but if all this freak wants to do is feed him and tell him stories then well what’s the worst that can happen.

“Good boy Stiles.” Garrick lifts a fig layered with goats cheese to Stiles’ plump lips, “There’s a good boy.” Garrick spreads a thick layer of butter on some freshly baked still warm bread, then a spoonful of honey. As Stiles teeth sink into the covered slice he lets out a moan he can’t help it, this all tastes so fucking good.

Honey slides down Stiles’ chin and then a drop falls onto Stiles’ bare chest. Garrick puts the bread down and looks over to the boy. Without saying a word he leans in to lick the honey off of Stiles’ chin, then he pushes gently on Stiles shoulder so he can reach down and lick the further drop from his chest.

“Ffffuck…” Stiles moans, he feels lost in the sensation he can’t remember why he felt angry towards this guy, why was he feeling anxious he couldn’t remember, fuck Stiles thinks, “remember, remember, remembrrrrrrr.”

Garrick can feel the moment the charm takes hold, it’s nothing too devious just a little spell that makes people forget their inhibitions a little. To be honest it takes a pathetically small amount of work to make Stiles bend and sway. He knew he was special, Garrick knew he had to have him, so beautiful, so damaged, just like his Lucien.

As if he weighs nothing Garrick picks Stiles up and carries him over to the bed, he lays him down and begins to take off the boy’s pants.

“No…” Stiles murmurs. “Want Chris…where’s Chris?” 

Garrick stops what he’s doing; he picks up the honey and places another drop onto Stiles’ lips.

“Ummmm, honey.” Stiles giggles as he licks his lips.

“Good boy.” Garrick smiles and tugs at the legs of Stiles pants.

Once Stiles is laid out before him smiling and giggling to himself as he licks the honey spoon, Garrick steps back and just looks at him.

“Oh you are perfect aren’t you, and he hasn’t had you, you are still a virgin, not it all ways but definitely in the way that counts.” 

Garrick runs his fingers over the bones in Stiles’ exposed ankle, traces over his shins bruised from lacrosse, he squeezes the thighs just starting to become hard with muscle. He sits on the edge of the bed his heart racing. As he looks down at the boy, reality and memory blur between this boy and his boy, his Lucien, his beautiful, beautiful Lu.

“Lu, miss you so much.” 

Stiles stirs and looks over to Garrick. “You are really fucking hot you know that right?”

This comment breaks Garrick out of his reverie, he shakes his head but a smile stretches across his face.

“Yes Stiles I may have been told that once or twice before. I see you are feeling a little more open to the fun way today.”

Stiles blushes but lifts his knee up and out to the side. Garrick’s eyes flare red as he catches a glimpse of the boys tight little pucker.

“Chris hasn’t fucked me yet.” Stiles pants as he reaches for another spoonful of honey.

“I think you’ve had enough honey for today darling boy.” Garrick says as he takes the now licked spoon and the honey pot away from a pouting Stiles.

“But he says he loves me but he hasn’t fucked me and he left me with my Dad, he ran. Fuck him Garrick, if he really loved me he would’ve stayed.” 

Stiles pout is so adorable Garrick wants to photograph it, but he holds back. Honestly things could not be going easier if he tried. He thought it would be a real battle to break the boy; hell he was looking forward to it. But it would appear there were a few issues bubbling away that have helped Garrick out more than he’d have thought. He won’t fuck the boy right now, no, one has to have discipline with things like this, he wants to enjoy the boy take his time, also he wants there to be no need for charms and honey when they really make love for the first time.

“Stiles you are so beautiful. Let me look at you.” Garrick leans once again over the boy. He strokes his hand down Stiles’ now bent leg. “So pretty, huh, you know that thought, right?” 

Slowly Garrick makes his way to the boys cock lying chubby and fat in his groin, he gently takes Stiles’ balls in his hands, cups them, and feels their weight.

“Grrr, please…” Stiles moans, he doesn’t really know what is going on, all he knows is his name is Stiles and that guy on the end of the bed is really fucking hot, and that really fucking hot guy is currently fondling his balls.

Garrick leans down and breaths in the scent of the boy, places kiss on the boys splayed thighs. 

“So perfect Stiles, so hot for me.” 

Stiles can feel the blood pump fiercely to his groin his cock swells and fattens. 

Garrick sits up and leans again the end of the bed.

“Play with yourself for me, I want to you touch yourself Stiles. Make yourself come for me.”

Stiles smirks at the request, then looks up to Garrick, “Yes Sir.” 

Garrick groans and pushes down on his own needy cock.

“Tell me what you like as you touch yourself.” 

Stiles licks his lips as his hand reaches down for his heavy cock.

“Like being controlled…” He says as he fists his length. “Like being worshipped too, love feeling like Chris can’t get enough of me.” Garrick flinches at the name but lets the boy continue; those kind of slips will be sorted out soon enough. Stiles spits into his hand and runs it over the shaft, pulling at the length.

“Love feeling exposed and at his mercy, feel like I’d let him do anything to me, want him to do everything to me, make me his. Want him to take me, fuck me…” Stiles pants out as the intensity builds he feels so turned on, his eyes flicker open and he sees Garrick at the end of the bed stroking his own cock through his shorts.

“Fuck, want you to fuck me Master, want to be yours, want to serve you, make Chris jealous, show him how wrong he was to leave me, to walk away from me. Fuck want you to touch me Master, please Sir touch me.” Stiles begs, eyes locked onto Garrick’s, hand pulling and stroking his own length.

Garrick sits up and leans over Stiles, “Like this?” Garrick’s huge hand wraps completely over Stiles’ own and soon they are both stroking Stiles’ cock, pulling and teasing at the shaft.

“Come for me boy, come saying my name.” Garrick commands.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh Garrickkk.” Stiles splutters and comes in thick ropes all over their hands and his stomach.

He pulls both their hands to his mouth and licks them clean not once breaking eye contact with Garrick.


	17. Seeking Comfort Part Seventeen

Garrick is watching the boy sleep, Stiles has been here with him for 3 days and this is his favourite thing to do. When the boy is silent and at peace Garrick can almost hear Lu’s French accent, he get’s lost in thoughts of those summers, he imagines the first words he will hear will be “Bonjour mon Gar, mon amour pour toi est éternal.”

Stiles blinks to consciousness, the bed is unbelievably comfortable, a delicious mix of hard and soft, he hates getting up, waking up. He looks over to see Garrick watching him, though as usual his face is glazed over, lost in his own thoughts.

“Morning Sir, how are you?” Stiles asks as instructed. 

Garrick shakes his head and looks down at the boy.

“I’m well my darling boy, well.” 

Stiles yawns and stretches his arms, there are now two rough leather binds at his wrist, though he’s thankful it’s just them and not the collar. Thoughts of the collar always make him feel depressed, he remembers something sad, though he’s finding it harder to pinpoint what that misery is anymore. There is also a man he dreams about but he can’t remember why. Before he can dwell Garrick is placing a mug of warm very sweet tea to his lips. 

“Here you must drink your morning tea baby boy.” He says as one-hand strokes the younger boys head.

With each swallow of the delicious brew Stiles feels more and more himself, the sadness and anxiety lift, he looks over to Garrick and feels a flush of pride that his Master is so handsome and strong. 

Placing the empty cup over on the bedside table Stiles sit’s up on his knees, he never knows why but once he’s finished his tea he’s always really, really hot for Garrick, he can’t wait to please him.

“Please Sir let me taste you?” Stiles pleads, he fidgets so much the covers fall from his body exposing his beautiful naked skin. Garrick lets out a groan.

“Boy, you will be the death of me, come sit on my lap.”

Stiles crawls on all four over to the larger man, Garrick pulls the sheet up to his waist but Stiles grabs it from him and pulls it down revealing Garrick’s huge swollen cock. Stiles licks his lips with greed, though his Master hasn’t fucked him yet, just keeps telling him he’s not ready, it’s driving Stiles insane with want. 

Stiles leans over the beast and tentatively licks at the tip. 

“Stiles that’s not exactly what I…fuck…” Garrick croaks out.

Stiles sucks on the fat end, hollowing his cheeks with all his might, he sticks his arse in the air as he lowers down the length. Garrick runs one large open palm along the span of Stiles’ spine and then strokes over the teens pert buttocks. 

“Fuck boy you will be the death of me, horny little bugger, I don’t know how the old guy held on for so long.”

Stiles turns his head, mouth still on Garrick’s dick.

“What old guy?”

“Oh no one, no one, you just go back to using that talented little mouth of yours.” 

Garrick lets his head fall back against the wall as images of him and Lucien flash through his mind. Them at 15 lost in each other, when both their bodies looked like Stiles'. Them on that rickety little bed in France with Lucien on top of him telling him it would be ok and it wouldn’t hurt too much. Then them at the end of that summer kissing and messing around in the sea, Lucien’s rage at Garrick’s mother for telling him to leave her son alone. Then Lucien holding Garrick tight and stroking his hair telling him that no one will separate them once they turn 18 and can leave that place and be together forever. Then the inevitable horrific image comes to his mind, a young Chris Argent swinging that fateful sword through the air and Lucien falling lifeless to the ground. Garrick can see Chris in his mind as clear as that day, the boy and his father cleaning the blood off the sword and them just leaving Lucien’s body there in the woods. The smile of triumph on their faces turns Garrick’s blood to ice. 

“Master.” Stiles whimpers as the grip Garrick has on his arse begins to draw blood and his Master's cock withers flaccid beneath his lips.

Red burns in his eyes when they open and look down at Stiles. “We start today boy, we need to get you ready for me don’t we. Really make you mine.”

\- -

Chris has had about fours hours sleep in the last few days, his eyes burn and his head pounds. Derek and the pack had scoured the woods about five times, but the trail goes dead about 50 metres from the crash site. The police haven’t been useful, but Chris knew that would be the case, this isn’t a police matter this is a supernatural matter. He scrolls through his phone and taps on the number of the only people he know that can help him get Stiles back.

“You’ve reach the voicemail of Dean Winchester, I’m busy right now but if it’s an emergency and you know what to do then…well…you know what to do.”

Chris hangs up, he pulls out the little notebook he keeps in the top kitchen drawer, scribbled about eight pages from the back is +881 983 775 004. Chris dials the number with shaking hands hoping that the line will connect.

“How do you kill a wendigo?” Comes the rough voiced question on the end of the line.

Chris lets out a sigh and rubs his thumb and finger wearily across his forehead. 

“You burn them, set them on fire.” 

“Chris what’s wrong? You sound awful. Sam don’t worry it’s just Chris…go back to bed.” Dean sounds gruff but not annoyed on the other end of the line.

“Sorry to call the satellite phone, I know it means you want to be off the grid, but umm, someone, or something has taken Stiles…I…um...” Chris’ voice breaks, not through tears, but sheer exhaustion and anxiety. “I really need your help Dean please.”

“Shit, shit…ok…yeah of course, we will be there..." Dean checks his watch. "...in under 60 hours. Hold tight Chris, we’ll find the fucker and make it pay.”

The line goes dead but instantly Chris feels better knowing the Winchesters are on their way. 

“Dad, here you need to drink this.” Alison holds him out a bottle of water. 

“Are the boys coming?” She asks.

“Yeah, yeah, just got hold of them, they’ll be here soon. How’s Sheriff Stilinski doing?”

Alison looks at the floor, then shrugs. “We don’t know, Scott stayed with him for as long as he could but Scott wanted to join the pack for the search. When he got back the Sheriff’s gun and car was gone. No one at the station has heard from him in over a day.”

“Shit, he won’t find anything but trouble right now, Stiles isn’t anywhere a normal human can find him. Fuck this is all my fault.” Chris drops his head into his hands, telling himself he can’t lose control he cannot break down right now too much is riding on him pulling himself together.

“It will be ok Dad, I promise.” Alison says squeezing her Dad’s tense shoulder and gently placing a kiss onto the back of his head. 

\--

Derek circles the same tree for what must be the hundredth time. 

“He’s not here Derek, we’ve looked everywhere. Let’s head home.” Issac pleads. It’s nearly midnight, the pack has been taking shifts all day, smelling and searching the whole place.

“I can still smell him here, it still smells fresh.” 

“It’s the last place we can trace him to, it’s just the end of the trail. Come on, you need sleep.”

Derek admits defeat but using one long wolfed out nail he carves a deep cross into the flesh of the tree. There's something here he knows it.

\--

Stiles isn’t sure why his Master is so upset but whatever happened has made him really fucking angry. 

“Please Sir, where are you taking me?” Stiles asks in the most sheepish voice Garrick has ever heard.

The chain is now attached to Stiles wrists and the boy is being all but dragged naked along the corridor. Cleaver is walking, almost skipping on ahead with a large set of keys rattling in his hand. He stops at a large oak door with a studded pattern covering it. He fiddles with the keys until an old iron key is slipped into the lock. 

“Does Sir permit me to stay?” Cleaver asks unable to keep the excitement from his voice.

“Yes, but only for 10 minutes, then I wish to be left alone with the boy.” Garrick agrees, his voice much deeper and stronger than before.

Stiles has not been in here before he’s sure of it, he’d remember somewhere as dark and downright scary looking as this. Garrick pulls hard at the chain making the boy stop just short of his large chest. Garrick is fully clothed back in the all black outfit and skull crusher boots. Stiles gulps in an almost comic book fashion.

Garrick stares at the boy for a minute looking at those wide scared brown eyes, so beautiful. He leans down and captures the boy’s lips, letting his tongue push into the boys mouth.

“Ummphh.” Stiles lets out. Initially he feels excited he’d wanted his Master to kiss him for well, he can’t even remember what day it is, but he’s pretty sure he’s wanted this kiss his whole life. Then the more that Garrick licks and tastes the inside of Stiles’ mouth the more Stiles feels like he’s waking up, like the lights are coming back on.

“Errrrr….ummmmmm….nooooooooo.” He pulls away from Garrick’s mouth. He sees the older man smirking down at him.

“Welcome back Mr Stilinski. How are you feeling?” 

“Fuck, who are you? Where am I? Why the fuck am I naked, what are you doing to me? Let me the fuck go!” Stiles yanks at the chains in Garrick’s hands but it’s futile, even without all the magic Garrick is still twice Stiles’ size and weight. 

“Well Stiles we’ve been having so much fun getting to know each other you’ve been most lavish with your attention, but you’ve become a little demanding lately. 'Oh please fuck me Master, oh please make me yours.' That I thought it was about time I did dear boy.” Garrick mimics Stiles’ voice so perfectly it sends shivers down the naked boys spine. Taking hold of his head Garrick turns the boy to look at the far wall. An image appears like an old home movie.

“What the…” Stiles mutters.

The reel starts with Stiles laid out naked on the bed with Garrick stroking and playing with his body, Stiles purring like a cat at the attention. The screen flickers and there is an image of Stiles sat on Garrick’s lap in front of the fire, him kissing the older mans neck and chest. The next scene is Stiles and Garrick in the kitchen, honey is dribbled all over Stiles’ body, Garrick’s huge hand rubbing the stickiness into the skin, Stiles looks away from the screen but Garrick forces him to continue watching. In the next one they are back on the bed, the sheets are messed up and Garrick has his spent load all over his stomach and Stiles’ mouth. Stiles is on all fours crawling round the bed, he settles facing away from the older man, then leans down turning his face to one side to rest on the bed and uses his hands to obscenely pull his cheeks apart. 

“Oh please fuck me Master, oh please make me yours. Wanted you for so long, need you inside of me, please.”

Stiles’ can feel the humiliation rising fiercely to the surface of his skin, not even with Chris would he be so brazen and filthy. At the thought of Chris a pang of sadness and want pierces though his heart. 

“Please stop…please stop it…” Stiles cries out.

The images stop dead and the screen goes black. 

“Indeed Mr Stilinski why watch the fun when we can be having fun of our own?” Garrick says with a terrifying glee in his voice. 

Cleaver sniggers in the corner as he turns a crank handle on the wall. Out of the floor rises a crude looking bench with locks at each end. Stiles watches with dread as the bench settles at floor level with a thud, he feels bile rising in his throat. 

“Now now, none of that Stiles, you wanted this, begged me for it in fact.” 

Garrick tugs on the chain around Stiles wrist, pulling the boy over to the bench, he waves his hand once and Stiles finds himself bent prone over the wooden horse his hands now locked into place. With another wave of Garrick’s hand Stiles’ ankles are attached spread eagled at the other end.

“Cleaver be a good boy and go fetch my supplies, I think we’ll need the larger bottle for this one, don’t you?”

Stiles hears Cleaver scuttle off out the door. Then he feels Garrick’s warm large hand stroke down his back like he’s some goddamn horse at a show. He flinches away from the touch but that only makes Garrick laugh and administer a loud painful smack to Stiles’ exposed arse cheek.

“See you were so much nicer after a little honey Stiles. You want to know what’s in that honey, just a little charm that removes ones inhibitions. I add nothing that isn’t already there. I must say you surprised me; so wanton and needy, I was firm with you though, as much as you put that little whore arse in my face, I didn’t fuck you.” 

Garrick comes to stand in front of Stiles now, he does up the top button on his crisp black shirt, but undoes the shiny cufflinks placing them in his pocket, the room is so quiet Stiles can hear them chink together as Garrick lifts his hand free. He methodically rolls each sleeve to elbow height the pushes them to just site under his large biceps. 

“I thought you would like to be truly with me in the moment for this Stiles, feeling every part of me as I slide inside of you and truly make you mine. You’re a feisty little one though so I’m afraid the horse is necessary, unless of course you like an audience, Cleaver looks like a revolting little runt but he’s strong and very eager to watch. Would you prefer he held you down as I fucked you?”

Garrick watches Stiles face, but the boy just grits his teeth, looking anywhere but at the older man’s eyes. 

“I thought as much, just me and you then, much more romantic that way I think.”

The door opens, Cleaver pushes through a small metal cart filled with bottles and boxes, as much as Stiles cranes his neck he cannot make any of them out.

“Cleaver as you’ve been such a good boy I’ll let you put the first one in.” Garrick informs the runty little man.

“Sir, oh thank you Sir, really, oh Sir, thank you so much.” Cleaver rummages excitedly on the cart until he finds one of the smaller boxes. Stiles can hear the little freak's breathing get heavier. 

Garrick is still stood at Stiles’ head, using his huge hand he pulls Stiles’ face back round towards him. Holding his chin with one hand Garrick uses his free hand to undo his zipper and pull out his swelling cock.

“Nothing like a little torture ad humiliation to get the blood flowing hey Cleaver? Gosh we haven’t done this in a while, I must admit we waited and waited for you, took our time. I hope you don’t disappoint Mr Stilinski! Open up.”

Stilles clenches his jaw tight as the older man rubs the tip of his penis to Stiles’ lips.

“ERRRRR….UNNNUHHH.” Stiles protests.

“It’s almost cute how he thinks he has a choice isn’t it Cleaver? I do love it when they give a little fight.” Garrick says as he waves his hand.

Stiles mouth opens instantly, his lips feel swollen and seem to be covering all his teeth, he’s also dribbling like crazy, but before he can even process what this mean Garrick slides about a third of his cock into the teens mouth. Then it’s like a goddamn pacifier Stiles is sucking and slurping as if the cock’s the tastiest thing he’s ever experienced. Garrick stokes the boy’s head, it disturbs Stiles how comforting it feels to him, how much this simple action calms him down, he feels this body relax almost instantly.

“Oh Sir, the training is going so well, I told you he was malleable didn’t I?” Cleaver says with glee.

Garrick looks down at the boy and bites at his lip trying to slow his desire down, carefully he pulls his now throbbing cock free, he tucks himself back in leaving an obscene bulge in his pants.

“Yes there’s a good boy. Cleaver’s right you know you are doing so well Stiles, my beautiful boy. You respond with such a small amount of magic needed and you’re now relaxing to my touch completely without magic. You are more than I could’ve dreamed of.” Garrick says as he bends down to place a kiss on Stiles’ head. 

He walks to the cart and starts discussing something with Cleaver, but Stiles can’t make out the words it’s as if they are speaking a foreign language. 

A loud clap startles Stiles, he desperately cranes his neck to see what’s happening.

“Excellent, excellent, Cleaver as you please.” Garrick comes to stand at Stiles’ side and once again begins to stroke at his flanks, the warmth and rhythm of his hands makes Stiles feel instantly calmer, but now he hates himself for it. 

Without any warning Stiles feel a cold hard tip press against his hole.

“What the fuck…please, please…no.” Stiles pleads.

“Cleaver…stop, STOP…the boy is quite right….use some lube you idiot!” 

Stiles groans, that is not what he meant at all. Fuck he wants Chris he wanted Chris to be his first, not some freak show in god knows where, some fucking sex dungeon. With that thought Stiles feels the cold wet lube smear over his hole and the now slightly warmer hard tip placed back against the ring of muscle.

“Slide it in the Cleaver, lets not drag it out too long.” Garrick says as he replaces his hand on Stiles stroking the boys back again.

“Good boy there’s a good boy, yes, yes gosh slipped in a treat, put the next size in Cleaver.” 

The small runty man removes the small black plug now covered in lube; with a dull thud he drops it to the metal cart. Stiles once again hears the two men talk in an unknown language.

The cold press of metal makes Stiles jolt against his restraints.

“Nooo….please…no…please…”

“Darling boy, can’t you see this is the kind way, or maybe you would prefer that I didn’t prep you?” Garrick says as he runs his warm hands down the length of Stiles’ body. “Hush now baby boy, it will be over soon enough, just relax. Just relax.” 

Stiles feel his body give in, the pressure at his rear lessens and Cleaver pushes the larger plug into place, it feels weird inside his body, but Stiles no longer feels panicked or worried, all he can feel is the stretch in his anus and Garrick’s warm hands on his back. He feels himself drifting off, as he does he thinks to himself. “Ummm Chris, my beautiful Master.”

\--

The knock at the front door jolts Chris awake, he wearily lifts his head from the cold marble of the breakfast bar and gets his bearings. He glances at his watch it’s 3am.

**THUD THUD THUD**

“Coming, I’m coming.” Chris hollers towards the impatient visitor. 

“Sir, Mr Argent, please open up.” 

Standing on the other side of the door is Issac; he looks tired.

“We found this…” He holds out a piece of silver, no bigger than a quarter, stamped in the centre of it is a symbol.

Chris holds it carefully between his fingers, feels the weight of it, he runs the tip of his finger over the indentation made by the symbol.

“Where? Where did you find it?” He demands.

“By a tree, the tree where the scent goes dead. Derek wouldn’t stop looking until he found it, he knew there was something off, 14 hours we spent at that tree…we just found it like 30 minutes ago. Derek’s still looking he’s convinced it means something. Does it?” Issac asks, his huge eyes staring into Chris’, pleading.

“It must do, it has to mean something.” Without thought Chris wraps a hand around the back of Issac’s neck and pulls their foreheads close. He closes his eyes.

“Thank you, please tell Derek thank you.”

He lets go and all but runs back into the house and upstairs, the front door closes shut behind him and a stunned Issac falls back a little then turns and breaks into a run to go find Derek.


	18. Seeking Comfort Part Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So all I can do is apologise, life just gets in the way sometimes, and as I've mentioned I don't watch this show anymore and I don't really read any fic anymore.
> 
> That being said the lack of continuation and eventual ending of this story was bugging me! 
> 
> Also you guys have been so great and supportive I can't leave you all hanging, hopefully some of you didn't give up hope. 
> 
> So here is a very brief chapter, I'm getting back into the zone **queues up the Rocky theme**
> 
> Let me know what you think!  
> x

Derek knew there had to be something here, why couldn’t he figure it out. The werewolf rested his head on the cold wet bark; repeatedly he thumped his head against it. 

“Think, you stupid wolf…think.” He chanted in his aloud.

The anger boiled up inside of him, there was something he was missing, something so obvious it was right in front of his face he knew it. A snarl started to grow in his throat, his fingernails started to thicken and lengthen. He loudly cracked his neck to one side then the other and slowly backed up from the tree. His eyes flashed red and he wolfed out. Charging with all his power straight into the tree, over and over, from each side using his teeth, his claws, howling and attacking this seemingly normal, old tree. Hacking claw and teeth marks into it, shaking it to its very roots, bark and smaller branches falling heavy to the floor.

~ 

 

Garrick was staring down at the prone body of Stiles, a debauched and obscene image. Legs split apart, long expanse of back and the subtle nubs of his spine leading Garrick’s eyes directly to the large chrome plug rammed into this boy’s virgin hole. He licked his lips and let the lust filter through his body. He wanted to punish Chris, of course he did; but oh Stiles, beautiful naïve Stiles was starting to grow on him. He could see why Chris fell for him.

“Master, ahem, Master…” Cleaver whined, pulling roughly at Garrick’s sleeve. 

Garrick shook his head out of his reverie. “What!?” he all but barked at his feeble assistant.

“The ceiling, Master, the foundations, can you not feel it?” Cleaver said backing away from his master and pointing up to the ceiling.

Garrick looked up noticing a large hairline crack that had appeared in the ceiling, and then as if on cue the whole room started to rattle and shake. Dust and dried mud fell from the ceiling. 

The chains and shackles around Stiles’ body began to shudder, he craned his neck to try to see what was happening, but his movement was so restricted. All he could hear was the faint muttering of Garrick and Cleaver, then without warning both men left the room and there was the loud clunk of a lock being turned. 

Stiles let out a growl and strained against his chains, he felt a throb course through the most intimate part of his body, the plug felt heavy and now warm in his hole. This isn’t how he wanted his first time to be, this isn’t how it was suppose to happen. Where was Chris, he wanted Chris? He let his head fall with a thud to the frame; he squeezed his eyes shut trying and failing to hold back the tears.

~

Garrick unlocks a small door without using a key, just traces a complex pattern with his finger, the lock clicks and the door creaks open. Inside the room is lined with books, globes, jars filled with odd-looking creatures and body parts. In the centre there is a large table with a blueprint spread out on it, as well as seven small floating orbs. 

Cleaver slides in the room after him and closes the door; he joins his master alongside the table. 

“What is it Master, have they found us, has it begun?” He says with glee and excitement in his voice.

Garrick examines each of the orbs and as he picks one up a section of the blueprint glows brightly, like fire is burning the paper.

“It’s too soon.” Garrick mutters mostly to himself, placing an orb back. “I didn’t plan it like this, how could they sense something so soon, they are only hunters. They wouldn’t have felt anything here.” 

The tall man paces furiously over to the wall, face creased with confusion and anger. He pulls a box from the shelf and walks back to the table. Methodically he turns a series of locks on the box, and takes out four small bottles of a green liquid.

“We need to strengthen the defences, they haven’t broken any yet, but we’re not ready; the boy must be mine completely by the time that hunter arrives. I want Stiles to willingly be my slave, he’s coming round I can feel him weakening, but he’s stronger willed than I thought. He has so much inside of him he’s not aware of. He could be brilliant, but I need to break him first, he needs to be mine.” 

Garrick’s eyes glazed over slightly as he speaks, he takes on the vague look of a professor pleased with his new invention, or maybe Dr Frankenstein, excited for his latest monster. Once again it’s Cleaver that brings him out of his musings.

“Sir, please how to we strengthen the defences.” The smaller man cowers as another quake runs through their lair.

“Oh yes, yes…quite right, we need some of this. Cleaver you must go to the surface. I need to know how they have found us. Use this, pour the bottles all round the tree it will reinforce the roots.”

He hands Cleaver the four small green filled bottles, then he takes a large glass globe out of the box and hands it to the smaller man.

“Place this on the ground and simply say ‘Reveal all’, it should change colour. As soon as it does you must bring it back to me, immediately you understand, the spell will only last a matter of minutes.”

Cleaver places the charms and spells into his cloak pockets and heads towards the door.

“No, no don’t go now, they might see you. They haven’t actually found anything yet we need to be careful. First go make me supper, and prepare some sweet tea for the boy.” Garrick dismisses his servant with a flick of the wrist. He lowers himself into a large leather armchair and pulls a necklace out from under his shirt. With a click the pendant opens to reveal two handsome young men and a lock of hair. 

“Oh Lu, my beautiful Lu.” 

Garrick closes the necklaces and kisses it once. Rubbing at his brow he leaves the chair and marches over to the books, searching frantically.

~  
Argent House

Chris flicks hurriedly through an old battered diary, the pages have started to yellow and all the pages are creased and messy. His thick-rimmed glasses start to slide down his nose and he pushes at them with one hand, as his other turns the pages. He suddenly comes to a halt and places the small piece of silver on to the page. The symbols match perfectly. Chris moves back from the desk and gulps almost comically loud. 

He is staring at the page in disbelief when Alison brings him a steaming hot cup of coffee.

“Dad what is it?” She places the mug on the desk and looks at the open book.

“Lucien Guilloux.” She read. “French Warlock, born 1977, in Saint-Nazaire. Abilities:…”

“To manipulate nature all around him. Caused numerous “natural” disasters in the late 80’s and 90’s. Could control human minds and make people, whole families kill themselves at will.”

Chris pinches the bridge of his nose and hangs his head.

“But this said you killed him, back in the 90’s with Grandpa. Using…” Alison flips the page and traces the words with her finger. “A sword dipped in the blood of his father. Oh jesus, that’s gross Dad.” Alison winces at the words.

“Trust me it was no great loss to society, the man was an abusive drunk. We found him in a run down apartment…”

Chris is interrupted by the reassuring low thrum of a motor.


	19. Seeking Comfort Part Nineteen

“Sam, Dean…” Alison shouts running down the stairs two at a time to greet the Winchesters. 

She barrels outside just as Dean is slamming the door and Sam is uncurling his long body from the car.

She hurls herself at both of them, Chris watches as the three of them bear hug on his front lawn. Even as shitty as he feels, a glow of warmth lights up in his body. 

~

“Argent, you ok?” Dean asks as soon as he sees the look on Chris’ face. 

All four of them wander into the kitchen. Manly hugs are exchanged and the coffee pot is filled. 

“So they took your boy, the one that you wouldn’t tell us about last month, Stiles?” They took him from his jeep and all you found so far is that silver coin with the symbol of…a French warlock you killed decades ago?” Dean shakes his head and takes a gulp of coffee; he threads his hand between his brother’s thigh and squeezes at the muscle. 

“Shit Sam, looks like we turned up just in time, eh!” 

~

Sheriff Stilinski had been in the woods for hours, or was it days. All he really knew was that his shotgun was still loaded and his whiskey bottle was empty. Just as he was about to turn back towards home he heard heavy, laboured breathing. He swung round looking for the person, his eyes swept the expanse of woods around him; then he saw it, a figure slumped up against a tree. The tree was torn up and the figure was covered in blood and bruises.

“Derek? Derek is that you?” The Sheriff called out.

A groan mumbled through the figure. Derek tried to open his mouth but it felt gummed up with dried saliva and blood. He cracked his eyes open and looked up at the concerned Sheriff.

“Jesus son, what happened to you?” The Sheriff tries to help Derek up, but his own exhaustion and the alcohol still sloshing through his veins means he ends up slumped down next to Derek.

“He’s here.” Derek slurs out.

“Who, Stiles, my boy where, where is he?” He tries to stand and look for Stiles, but Derek pulls him back down.

“I can’t find him, I just know he’s here.” Derek mutters, exhausted and still in pain.

“I can’t lose him Derek, not after all we’ve been through. I was…I was…” The Sheriff breaks down, not tears as such but a guttural moan seems to come from within.  
“I pushed him away, I drank, drink so much and he thinks it’s because of him. I love him so much, he’s all I have, why was I so stupid? Fuck Derek, what if I’m the reason he’s gone.” 

The sheriff wipes at his eyes and looks directly at the other man. 

“We will find him Sheriff Stilinkski, but…” Derek sighs. “…But it’s not going to be a job for the police force. I can’t explain, but you have to trust me. I will get your son back. We need him.”

The sheriff, though he doesn’t really understand what the younger man is saying, he trusts Derek, almost completely. 

Slowly the pair gets up; gingerly the Sheriff helps Derek back to his patrol car. Though before they leave Derek swipes one last mark on the tree, he carves a D into the bark. 

“What the…how did you do that son?” The bemused Sheriff asks.

“Long story.” Is all Derek can say as they leave.

~

Stiles lifts his head, he feels like he’s been strapped to this fucking thing forever. He can’t tell how long Garrick and his minion have been gone, but the building has stopped shaking and the place is even more eerily quiet.

“Fuck.” He shouts out, as he pulls in vain at his shackles. Images of Chris walking away from him, his dad cocking his shotgun, Derek growling, Alison crying, the jeep skidding, Garrick laughing, himself cavorting on the bed like a whore, that ugly snivelling little minion lubing up the plug and finally the sensation of the plug stretching him open, all flash through his mind. A surge of warmth and light race through his body and a blinding white light flashes through his eyes just as he passes out.

~

There is a knock at the door.

“Come.” Garrick calls out.

“Supper Master, shall I leave it here for you?” 

Garrick motions to a small side table next to his armchair.

“Check the perimeter defences now. Be quick though. We don’t have time to waste.”

With that Cleaver trots off like the obedient little servant he is. Garrick tears some bread in to pieces and swipes it through the butter on his plate, his face taught with stress and anger.  
~

On the surface Cleaver see no traces of anyone around, he quickly looks over the tree and see a large claw mark mixed in with lots of other scratches, if he squints he thinks he can read a D. Without wasting too much more time he pours all four bottles of liquid onto the base of the tree. A fine green smoke rises from the ground into a cloud around the tree, magically the tree starts to heal itself, the claw and teeth marks disappear and the fallen branches evaporated. As the cloud dissipates all that remains is a very faint out line of the D, Cleaver traces the mark with his bent grey finger. 

“D. D…d…d.” He mutters as he taps on the bark.

He turns from the tree and taking the globe from his pocket he drops it to the wet ground with a thud.

“Reveal All.” Cleaver repeats Garrick’s instructions.

A howling sound escapes very faintly from the globe, and then the sphere turns completely grey. Like a little cockroach Cleaver scurries back into the tree and down to the lair.

~

“Sir, sir, the globe, the globe.”

Cleaver hands the sphere back to his master.

Garrick lifts it to the light and examines it closely. After a few minutes the grey starts to clear and the globe is crystal once again. Garrick places the globe back in the box and locks it. He walks over to Cleaver and strokes the small mans head.

“Well done my boy, well done. What else did you see or hear?”

Cleaver explains all about the marks and the howling sound. 

“Wonderful, wonderful…well this has changed the plot a little, we have werewolves lurking. My, my, Stiles does mingle in interesting crowds.”

Garrick seems excited rather than anxious about this news. Cleaver looks on confused.

“But Master, surely that is bad news?” Cleaver suggests.

“Oh no, this just makes it more fun…hunters are human and have human limitations, werewolves are strong and supernatural, but mostly stupid. No, no, Cleaver my dear servant this will be fun!”

~

A temporary head quarters has been set up in the Argent’s kitchen. The table has been cleared of bowls, cookbooks and pots; now a large map of the area is spread out over the top and piles of books line the outside. The perpetually brewing coffee pot drips away on the side.

“So let me get this right, you killed this warlock back in the 90’s, the kid had no family after you killed his father, there were no siblings, cousins, nothing that you can think of. Yet you ran a sword dipped in his father’s blood straight through him, and now like twenty years later he suddenly reappears.” Sam nurses his third cup of coffee as they go over what little they’ve established in the last ninety minutes.

“I know, it makes no sense, he was dead, hell the guy was practically sliced in half. Dad made sure he was dead. The sick bastard even chopped off his left hand and a lock of hair.”

Dean looks up from the map.

“Not sick, safe. Warlock’s left hands are directly linked to the source of their power, even if by some fucked up miracle this dude did spring back to life without his left hand he’d be practically useless. We’re talking entry-level witchcraft, mostly with herbs and potions, no way he’d be able to cause natural disasters or do much damage at all.” He shrugs and looks back down to the map.

“Huh,” Chris said, “who knew? What about the hair though?”

“Well most likely that would be protection, lots of uses for a lock of hair, especially a lock of warlock hair.” Sam suggests.

“Damn I’m glad you guys are here, I know all this stuff, well most of it. But my judgement is so clouded I can’t get my head straight. I just want him back…my Stiles.” Chris’ throat clogs up as he says his name; he lowers his head to avoid looking at the other hunters.

Sam walks over and lays one of his huge hands on his shoulder.

“It’s ok man, we will get him back.”

“Yeah we will Chris, don’t worry about it, we’ve dealt with worse shit you know. We’ll get your boy back. Shit though man, seventeen years old. You dirty old man.” 

Dean teases, punching lightly at Chris’s arm.

“Fuck, it’s not like that though, I love him. I don’t even see that he’s seventeen you know. When I’m with him everything makes sense. I know from the outside it looks wrong and cheap and like something sordid, but it’s just love and well happiness. I’ve never felt this happy with someone, not romantically. I thought I never would.”

Sam pulls Chris into a hug.

“Aww Chris, you know you don’t have to explain it to us, do you now?”

Sam looks over to his brother and smiles, Dean blushes a little but gives his younger brother his ususal wink.

“Oh shit, sorry dudes I didn’t know there was like a private moment going on in here.” Scott says as he crashes through the kitchen door carrying three huge pizza boxes.

“Shut the fuck up and give me that pizza.” Dean says as he slaps the boy upside his head.

“You can’t slap me you’ve only known me for 2 hours.”

“You’re a goddamn werewolf boy, you are lucky I don’t put a silver bullet between those dopey eyes of yours.” 

“Dean please, I love him.” Alison says as she curls he body next to Scott’s, creating a barrier between the hunter and her lover.

Dean lets out a snarl and walks away snatching a pizza box as he goes.

~

There is an ache throughout Stiles’ body that he’s never felt before, the kind of sensation you get from great exertion, as if his just climb Everest without oxygen. He blinks his eyes open and realises that the chains and shackles are broken; slowly he lifts himself off the frame. 

The movement brings his attention to his sore stretched ass, the plug still wedge firmly in there. He reaches around and his hand finds the end of the plug. Even touching it sends fire flaring up through his body. He takes a deep breath and slowly pulls the plug free, he hates that it sends a shock of arousal through his body. With a clunk he places the plug on the metal tray, it looks so small now he can see it, but it felt huge inside of him. Cautiously he reaches back to feel his hole, the rim feels sore and tender, but he’s relieved that there are no traces of blood on his fingers when he pulls them away. 

As he’s looking down as his finger the lock turns in the door. Garrick strides in, as soon as he sees a freed Stiles he stops in his paces.

“My, my, my, what have you been doing in your free time Master Stilinski?” He says with a wry smile on his face.

Stiles backs up a little but he is stop short against the horse frame. 

“Cleaver it would seem we have a petty criminal with us, a lock picker extraordinaire!”

Cleaver just snorts at that and shuffles a little closer to his master.

“Well Stiles, as interesting as this all is I grow impatient. Let’s get on with this shall we. Cleaver, strap him back on.”

Cleaver approaches Stiles, but before he can grab him Stiles raises his hand and shouts “NO!” loudly and fiercely. A flash of white light spreads from within him, all around him the room starts to vibrate. A perfectly formed sphere of light surrounds the naked boy.

Garrick lets out a deep rumbling laugh. 

“Aww Cleaver look our little boy is all grown up.” He coos.

Cleaver still attempts to grab Stiles but as soon as he makes contact with the sphere he is thrown across the room and lands with a smack.

“Now, now, Stiles play nice, please don’t damage my property.” With a flick of Garrick’s wrist Cleaver is pulled to his feet and practically floated out of the room. The door shuts behind him with a thud.

He draws closer to the boy, but doesn’t touch him.

“So Stiles you finally discovered the big secretly brewing inside of you. Why you are indeed so special. I must admit I was quite delighted when I found out, not only had Chris picked a handsome one like you but a powerful one too. Though you don’t understand it do you, all those pills you’ve taken over the years to suppress all those feelings, all that power coursing through your veins. I felt it too, I know how you feel. When Lucien showed me the way, the light, showed me it’s nothing to be ashamed of that’s when my life began. And when your love, your knight in shining armour took Lucien away from me that’s when my life ended.”

In a fit of rage Garrick sends a shard of bright red light across the room, it smashes into Stiles’ sphere and an almighty thunderclap lets out. Stiles has to concentrate so hard, he feels tired, like his brain physically hurts; he holds onto his light, pushes away Garrick’s spell. A trickle of blood comes out of Stiles’ nose and he uses all his strength to hold the light up.

Garrick slumps forward as all his energy disappears, the red light withdraws back into his body. He pants out and laughter erupts in his throat, it causes a coughing fit as he gasps for breath.

“Fuck me, you are strong, haven’t got a bloody clue what you are doing, though, have you?”

The two men stare at each other in stalemate, both trying to hold themselves together.


	20. Seeking Comfort Part Twenty

Derek made sure the Sheriff got home safely. By the time they reached the car most of his wounds had healed, though luckily the blood mostly covered his body so the Sheriff was none the wiser. He left the patrol car keys on the sideboard and softly pulled the Stilinski’s front door closed. He started his trek home, before he’d gotten far Issac pulled up alongside him.

“Jesus Derek where the hell have you been?”

“Looking for Stiles, I need a shower, take me home, then I need to see Argent.”

~

Given the situation it seems odd that Derek and Issac should willingly ring the doorbell of their local hunter; but both boys were brought up well and sometimes politeness overrides werewolfieness.

Scott answers the door, but looks anxious straight away.

“What’s wrong?” Derek demands.

“Umm…it’s nothing, well it’s just Alison’s Dad, well he umm…he has friends in town…”

Derek ignores Scott’s rambles and head into the house, Issac following obediently behind him.

“Argent!” Derek calls out.

“Derek, in here…” Alison calls out.

Derek can hear multiple voices in the kitchen.

“Derek, as in werewolf alpha…in your house.” Dean asks.

“Chris we can’t trust them, they are werewolves. Hunters and werewolves don’t work together.” Sam furthers.

“I know, I know it doesn’t make any sense, but please…” Before Chris can finish his sentence Derek comes through the door and is face to face with Dean who is reaching for his gun.

“Whoa, whoa…” Scott yells out.

“What the fuck!” Derek shouts.

“I’m gonna give you one chance to leave wolf boy…” Dean says stepping even closer to the werewolf.

Derek lets out a snarl and his claws start to grow.

“Derek!” Issac calls out.

“Deannn!” Sam says in a familiar tone.  
Both men hold their respective brothers and alphas back, struggling to pull the two red blooded males apart. 

“Don’t like this Chris, don’t trust um…don’t need help from fucking werewolves.”

“Oh yeah old man, you getting anywhere with those maps and books and your fucking diaries. I’m the only fucker here who has any leads, I’m the only one right now that can take you to where Stiles is?” Derek retorts, eyes glowing red.

Once again it’s Alison who calms the situation down, standing between the two men she looks at both of them.

“Please, for my Dad and Stiles please can you guys just put your differences aside and work together. Stiles needs our help.” Alison pleaded with them, her big beautiful eyes looked so sad and vulnerable. Dean had never been able to say no to them, not when she was a bub and still after all these years they still melted his heart a little. Not that he’d let her know that explicitly.

He grumbled and huffed and walked away from her and Derek. 

“Working with werewolves…what the hell? This kid better be worth it Chris!” Dean said though he knew Stiles was already, the way Chris, hell the way they all talked about this kid. Dean knew he was special.

Sam coughed to break the odd atmosphere.

“So what can you tell us Derek?”

Finally looking away from Dean, Derek told everyone what he’d come across in the woods. 

“What you found would be consistent with Lucien’s particular brand of magic, he could manipulate nature easily. We watched him for years from afar, monitored his patterns, the spells he cast. Every summer he would go quiet like he’d drop off the radar.” Chris gets lost in his thoughts.

“So we need to break the charm on that tree, don’t we, once we can access wherever it is they are holding Stiles, we have a chance at getting him?” Sam says.

“Yep, basically without getting into that tree we have no way of finding him.” Derek agrees.

“Dad, I’ll take Scott up to the attic, those old boxes of Grandpa’s surely he’ll have some books on these kind of charms, spells?”

“Yeah good thinking. We should start the first watch, umm Issac, are you ok to go?” Chris asks looking over at the doe-eyed teen.

“Me, umm…yes, yeah sure. Um is that ok Derek?” Issac looks to his alpha for permission.  
Derek just nods once and Issac is out the door.

Dean looks up trying to hide the awe in his face.

“Man, I got to get you trained up that good Sammy.” He says ruffling his brother’s hair. “Like a good little puppy.” 

Derek snarls at that comment but goes bank to the book he was studying.

 

~

The light surrounding Stiles was flickering and cutting out, the boy’s head drooped a little with each flicker.

Garrick is spread across the large leather sofa placed next to the roaring fireplace, he sleepily watches the boy.

“Stiles, you have to give up sometime, I’m very impressed with your power. I’m exhausted too, let’s call it a truce ok?”

Stiles shakes his head and the light intensifies around him.

Garrick lets out an exasperated sigh, “Dear boy, your bubble is just another layer of security in what is already a fortress. You can keep your little bubble up as long as you like but there are charms and spells and locks surrounding this place that only myself or, my beloved, Lucien could break. You aren’t going anywhere.”

Garrick dramatically rolls his eyes. “Plus I’m bored of this and your nubile little body looks delicious over there. I’d much rather be playing with you.”

Cleaver returns to the room, he grumbles as he walks past Stiles and give the sphere of light a wide berth. He passes a large, steaming, mug to Garrick and proceeds to scurry from the room quickly.

“Seems you have shaken my poor little Cleaver, what a mean boy you are!” 

Stiles starts to lose focus, he’s so tired, his whole body aches. He has a migraine like he’s never had before. All he can think about is sleep and rest; he wants it so badly. Exhausted he closes his eyes; the shield of light around him sputters then disappears completely. He feels himself fall towards the floor. Before he hits it though Garrick swoops in and catches him.

“There, there my beautiful, I’ve got you.” 

Garrick carries him back to the sofa, all Stiles can feel is the soft touch of Garrick’s hands and the comforting heat from the fire. Without thought he drinks the sweet hot tea that Garrick offers to his lips. He hasn’t drunk anything in hours and he drains the cup in a matter of seconds. Garrick smiles down at him and can feel the moment the potion takes hold; Stiles body loses some tension, he curls towards Garrick and nuzzles into his neck.

“Master, ummm my Master.” Stiles murmurs.

“There you are my beauty, how are you feeling?” Garrick purrs.

“Sleepy, well sort of sleepy, but maybe dreamy, and horny, ummm Master you smell so good!”

Garrick strokes the boy’s body, his huge hand dwarfing the teenager. 

“Miss you like this, I’ll break you, you will want me like this without the potion; but it’s been a longer day and I’m a romantic at heart.”

Garrick lets out a hollow laugh and runs his hands through Stiles’ hair, tugging roughly on it.

“Well romantic/sadistic…much the same. Now I’ve got something for you.”

Garrick leans back, unzipping his trousers and letting his long thick cock spring free.

“Ummmm…can I?” Stiles asks gazing at the throbbing hard member. 

“Good boy.” Garrick says as he pushes Stiles head down into his lap.

~

A few hours later Stiles awakes in Garrick’s bed, as usual, he is naked; as is Garrick, lying awake next to him. Stiles licks his lips and tastes honey, he licks them again wanting to taste it all.

“There you are, such a good boy. Come here, lay with me for a moment.” 

Garrick pulls the sheet aside and lets the teenager slot in beside his oversized and muscled body. 

“Sir when can we leave this place, I miss daylight. And I want you to show my off.” Stiles says wriggling suggestively next to him.

“Soon my baby boy soon. I love it when you are so open, my beauty; just a little sweetness and all your darkest desires come pouring out. How would I show you off?”

Stiles climbs onto Garrick’s lap, straddling his thighs and letting his long semi-hard cock rest between the boy’s creamy white cheeks. Stiles leans forward and kisses Garrick, the kiss is long and passionate. When Garrick closes his eyes it could almost be Lucien, those lips taste so sweet. 

“Want everyone to see who owns me, want them to all be jealous of my Master. Want you to get rid of Cleaver, just have me, I want you all to myself.” Stiles says in between kissing all over Garrick’s face and neck.

“Want you to take me to places, like a club, want to be dressed up for you, however you want.” Stiles blushes at that.

“Umm I think you already know how you want to be dressed baby, tell me?”

“Yes Sir, want to be naked, wearing a collar, heavy plug deep inside of me. I’d be proud to walk beside you, let everyone see what a good little whore I am for you.”

Garrick’s cock is throbbing hard by now, the thought of showing off his latest boy, such a special boy too. 

“Fuck, you are filthy Stiles. Turn around arse up.”

Obediently Stiles turns around and braces himself on the mattress. Garrick leans forward and inhales the boy’s scent, both his large hands grab the teenagers cheeks and squeezes them. Stiles feels movement on the bed and tries to move to see.

“Stay. Be a good pet.” 

Garrick moves to stand over the prone boy. He rubs over the boy’s cheeks and raises his palm to the air, bringing it rapidly down with a loud smack onto Stiles’ pert right butt cheek. 

“Ummmf…” Stiles groans as the force pushes him forward.

“Stay.”

Another smack and another, Garrick lets him have ten blows in quick succession. Stiles moans and groans in pleasure.

“Umm Chris, harder, ummm I’ve been naughty haven’t I? Need it though Sir, need you to spank me.”

Garrick pulls his hand back in readiness but stops at the name that came out of Stiles’ mouth. 

“What did you call me?” He raises his voice, pulling his hand back further.

Stiles lost in the moment repeats, “Chris, my Chris…”

The smack sends Stiles across the bed and with a thump to the floor. The jolt to his body also jolts his mind. He whips round and stretching out his hand sends the huge older man flying through the air. When Stiles realises what he’s doing he freezes and so does Garrick in mid air. 

“Fuck” Stiles says and Garrick drops to the floor.  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Garrick pulls himself to his feet and flicks his wrists, instantly Stiles is bound and gag on the floor.

“You over think it dear boy, every single time.” Garrick says pulling his thick leather trousers up his legs and tucking his now flaccid cock into them.

“So much power, but you have no idea how to use it. I challenge you to get out of those cuffs, without damaging my home or killing your goddamn self before I can.” Garrick barks as he stalks angrily from the room.

~

Issac follows Derek’s scent all the way through the woods, he finds a tree and can just about make out a shaped carved into it. 

“Derek, it’s me. I think I found the tree but the mark you said you carved into it, well it looks real old man, like someone marked it a hundred years ago, not a few hours ago.” 

Derek makes a humphing noise down the phone and Issac can hear some indistinct chatter at the other end of the line. 

“It’s the right tree, they must have known I’d done something, must of known I’d been there. Stay put; stay vigilant. I’ll come take over in a few hours.”

The phone cuts dead, Issac settles himself at the base of the tree. He can tell something is up with the tree, there is something unsettled about it, it gives him a bad feeling. Also he’s cold as hell, and hungry too; why did he not bring some twinkies or something with him.

~

“Dad…Dad…I think I found something.” 

Alison rushes over to the kitchen table with a large piece of leather under her arm and a book.

“The sword, yes, of course. I still have it, well Dad did.” Chris takes the sword and book from his daughter and kissed her squarely on the mouth.

“Well done sweetheart. Good work.”

Chris unwraps the sword and lays it in the table. It’s nothing remarkable to look at, it almost looks like a stage prop for a high school production; except for along the blade is a neat perfectly scribed inscription.

Sam lifts it up and tries to read it.

“Huh. What the hell language is that?” He says squinting his eyes.

“Oh it’s Icelandic, I think, or Norwegian maybe. My father won it in a pub in Scotland, from a man with one eye back in the 60’s, it’s supposed to be an ancient sword of a Norse or Icelandic God.”

“Cool.” Dean and Sam say at exactly the same time.

Derek looks up from his book and rolls his eyes; “Fucking hunters.” He says before taking his book and coffee into the front room.

Dean snarls at the werewolf’s retreating back.

“What’s the book?” Sam asks.

Chris flips it open, thumbing quickly through the first few pages. A look of recognition enters his face and then he abruptly stops on a page about half way through. He looks up to the other hunters.

“It’s my study notes, Dad used to make use do homework, but specifically for hunting, we wrote thousands and thousands of notes. This book, and this page in particular, are all about using nature manipulation incantations and charms for concealment and security.”

“Jeez, and I thought our Dad was bad enough, eh, Sammy!” Dean says squeezes his brother’s shoulder.

Chris scans through the pages and then reads aloud;

“Trees, or complete forests, are one of the most popular articles used to manipulate nature for concealment. The vast network of roots that connect under ground….blah, blah, blah…ok…the most effective way of breaking an enchantment of this kind is to dig out the roots of the tree, if able to, this will then weaken the defences and leave the gateway vulnerable. The key to breaking the gateway open is…Shit, shit, shit I didn’t finish it, I didn’t finish the fucking sentence, there…” Chris flips the page. “There is just a fucking doodle on the next page.”


	21. Seeking Comfort Part Twenty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I will get this finished one day....Here's a short chapter to get me back in it.

“For FUCKS sake!” Chris throws down the book and storms out of the kitchen.

“Dad, Dad…it’s ok.” Alison calls out following after her father.

Scott looks over to Dean, and then to Sam, then back at Dean. “I’ll umm be in the living room.”

Dean ignores the teen, but Sam nods his head.

“What are we missing Dean? Something about this feels so familiar to me, fuck…think, think, think.” Sam taps the pen he’s holding repeatedly against his head, whilst Dean rubs a hand across the wide expanse of his brothers tense shoulders. 

“San Francisco…” Sam exclaims, dropping the pen to the table.

“San Francisco?” Dean questions.

“A few years back, remember that summer where work dried up, I started looking up leads on those magic forums? Remember that little twink of a guy that posted about needing help with a spell gone wrong? Fuck what was his name, Keiran, Cillian, Seamus, fuck; anyway something Irish sounding.” 

Dean’s brow furrows, and then drops, as he pulls his shoulders into an over the top shrug.

Sam rolls his eyes. “He’d been setting “traps” for guys, enchanting trees so, kinda like a booby trap, but the guys were getting stuck and he couldn’t break the spell and was freaking the fuck out.”

“Oh the kinky tree fucker dude?” Dean asks.

“What, um, well I don’t think he was fucking trees, but yes technically I guess the tree fucker.”

Dean smirks, “I remember him, said he wanted to have some power as he was always seen as a push over, big burly gay dudes just used and abused and he wanted to wow them with magic. Ha, oh man, he got so excited telling us about luring them into those goddam tree traps, but once they pass into the tree they disappeared. Hence kinky tree fucker.”

Sam shakes his head, “Whatever, the tree thing, that’s kinda rare, I’d never heard of it before that or after until now. It’s worth checking out right?”

“Sammy you are a genius!” Dean says pulling his brother’s head back and planting a big wet kiss on his Sam’s lips.

Sam blushes a little and shrugs. “Just knew something felt familiar.”

“What happened with the tree fucker, I don’t remember anything past laughing my ass off at his pathetic story?”

“Oh we never got to help after we interviewed him we got a call from Bobby; remember Hell’s Gate opening?” 

Dean winces. “Fuck yeah no wonder I’d forgotten all about that case.”

The brother’s scribble a note for Chris and leave the house without another word.

~

Stiles strains against the ties that bind him. 

“Grrrrrrrrr…fuck!” He curses.

The tension in his body dissipates; he falls limp back against the floor. He feels so pathetic and alone. A wave of sorrow floods his mind as he realises just how much he misses Chris. Chris is all he’s thought about for the last few months, he can barely remember what life was like before him, but now, now it feels like a distant memory. What if he never sees him again? The morbid thought enters his mind and Stiles’ brain all but blacks out from the sadness.

“No, fuck…I’m not going to let this fucker win.” He says through gritted teeth.

Talking to his self in a low, secretive voice Stiles asks. “What would Chris do? He wouldn’t lie here feeling sorry for himself, nope.”

Closing his eyes Stiles thinks back to a few months back, to Chris and him at the range. 

**  
Stiles is wrapped up one of Chris’ hoodies, he’s sat on one of the old tables watching Chris methodically dismantle, clean and reassemble his guns.

“Have you every felt completely out numbered?” Stiles asks looking to the older man’s face for a reaction.

Chris clicks and pulls at the gun, taking it apart whilst barely looking at it, lining each part up in meticulous rows. 

He ponders the question for a bit. Then casually shrugs. “Loads of times.”

“How did you get out alive?” 

“Well, sometimes when you feel completely out gunned, you gotta let them think they already won. A few times I’ve “surrendered” made them think I was done, then you gain their trust a little and wait. Patience is the key when you think you’ve lost it all.”

“So basically pretend to be pathetic and defeated and then when they least expect it kick their ass right into next week.” Stiles says whilst flinging himself from the table and attempting to round kick the gun barrel from Chris’ hand.

Chris, of course, is too skilled to be fooled by this; instead he grabs the teenagers exposed ankle and pulls him into his lap. The boy ends up straddling the older man with his hands restrained behind him.

“You were saying?” Chris says before they both burst out laughing. Though the laughter’s over in a few seconds as lust overwhelms them and any talk of life and death disappears from their minds.  
**  
Stiles opens his eyes and tries to clear his head of negative thoughts, he tries to think practically. Garrick is playing him right now; he has Stiles either unchained but doped up to the eyeballs, or lucid and shackled. Stiles needs to get Garrick to trust him, he needs to be unchained and completely lucid and he needs to get Garrick to teach him how to control this power or magic or whatever the fuck it is within him. Stiles shivers with the thought - the realisation - he now understands what he’s going to have to do to save himself and get back to Chris.

“I’m so fucking glad I took that drama class and psychology last semester.” He mutters to himself as he rocks his body onto its side.


	22. Seeking Comfort Part Twenty-Two

Alison pours a glass of water for her dad; he walks into the kitchen just as she turns the tap off. 

“Morning honey,” he says rubbing his hand up and over the back of his head, shaking off the sleepiness. “How long was I out for?” he asks.

“Long enough for Dean and Sam to run off only leaving a note. I only just found it though so I don’t know how long they’ve been gone.” Alison says motioning to the scrap of paper on the table.

Chris picks up the paper.

Gone to check out a lead in San Fran, won’t be long. S & D

Chris slumps onto the breakfast table stool. He knew that the boys would be back and that the lead might be really helpful, but he felt a knot tightening in his stomach knowing he was without them again, he felt stronger with them here.

Alison came up behind him and wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders. “They’ll be back soon Dad, it’s ok.” She kissed her father on the back of the head. 

“I know Ali, I know.” Chris said with a sigh.

Before anymore was said a sleepy looking Issac walked into the kitchen.

“Is there coffee, please tell me there is coffee??” The werewolf pleaded.

~

Sam unfolded his large frame out of the car and stretched, as Dean walked towards him holding two coffees and a bag of donuts. 

Quickly Sam scanned the parking lot, when he saw nobody close by, he leant down and kissed Dean’s full, coffee tinged lips. 

“I love you.” He said pressing his forehead to his brothers.

“I love you too Sammy, what’s making you all soppy?” Dean said with a snigger, but they both knew how it felt to lose the other, how it felt to have your love taken from you. 

They stood quietly for a few moments just drinking their coffees, whilst resting against the impala.

“You reckon he’ll be at the same place?” Dean asked just before draining his paper cup.

Sam swallowed his bite of donut and screwed up the napkin he was holding. “Well if his instagram, facebook and twitter are all correct, he not only still lives there, he is literally having his #guiltybreakfastpleasures, on his balcony 10 minutes ago.”

Sam held up his phone to Dean, on it is a sepia coloured photo of a plate of pancakes and bacon.

“@luckoftheirish87, what a douche!” Dean snorts. 

“Yep that’s our guy, looks like he’s still practicing magic if his amount of followers and attractive male friends are anything to go by.”

…

A few minutes late they pull up outside a tired but trendy looking building in one of San Francisco’s nicer areas.

Sam reads through the names on the buzzers. 

“K. O’Farrell.” Sam said pushing his finger firmly against the button.

The speaker on the intercom crackles, but no voice comes through. Then the door buzzes open. 

“Humm he’s real welcoming of visitors I guess.” Sam shrugs and holds the door open for Dean.

The small pale looking guy they’d met a few years before is holding his apartment door open when they reach the third floor.

“Who the hell are you??” He said sounding flustered; he pulled quickly at his robe to close it. “I was expecting Jose and Patrick, they are my usual Sunday mornings.”

Dean rolled his eyes out of sight and clenched his fist.

“Umm no Mr O’Farrell, we just wanted to have a chat. We actually met you a few years ago. You were having some tree issues so you called us to come look at them.”

“OMG the Winchester brothers, oh I thought I had dreamed you two up. Ohh do come in, you two just get better with age don’t cha.” His accent was a cloying mix of effected American and Irish and it made Dean’s skin crawl, but he dutifully followed his brother into the room. 

“Where the devil did you both disappear too? I had a right old time trying to get those boys out.” Killian says as he saunters into his kitchen. “Can I fix ya a drink or something to eat?” 

Both men shake their heads but Killian waves his hands in both directions and two cups of coffee and a whole breakfast spread appears on the dining table. 

“See you’ve managed to master that magic stuff then.” Dean says as he reaches for a croissant. 

“Well funny story lads,” Killian motions for them to sit down. “After you guys had left I had such a panic I didn’t have a clue what to do, then just when I was thinking my time was up, I was literally just about to call the cops and hope they could at least find the poor beggars, well you’ll never guess who turned up at my door.” 

Killian’s arms flayed around as he spoke, another habit Dean found annoying, but he chewed on his annoyingly delicious croissant and listened.

Sam looked at his brother, then back to Killian.

“We have no idea Killian, that’s why we are here.” He said rather bluntly.

“Big G!” Killian said, as if he was explaining everything in two simple words.

Both brothers looked even more confused.

“Ahh come on, surely you know Big G.” Killian’s eyes misted over in a look of adoration and lust. 

“Enlighten us Irish!” Dean said as he slurped a mouthful of coffee.

Killian proceed to explain to them that two months before he had called the Winchesters in distress, this big fellow had come into town. For whatever reason he’d started talking to Killian, well if he was being honest, Killian knew that Big G had taken pity on him really. He’d spent hours listening to G talk about love and life and magic, how G had turned his life around using magic. How he’d been small and insignificant, like Killian, but he was now one of the most powerful men in the world. 

“Well I thought he was bonkers, off his rocker, cuckoo. But there was something so hypnotic about him, I thought to myself well if this handsome fellow wants to talk to me about nonsense, well, I’d just about let him talk to me about anything. If I’m honest with you boys I really don’t remember much for a few of those days but I can tell you this, my arse has never quite been the same again.” Killian says with a slightly sickened exaggerated wink.

“Cut to the chase leprechaun, I can’t take much more of this.” 

Killian cuts Dean a side-glance then directs the rest of his story to Sam.

“Anyway one day he takes me out into the woods, where those Big Sequoia trees are, and he says that if I don’t get respect from people, from men, I should demand respect. He gives me all these spells and incantations. At first I just think, well like I said, I just think he’s bonkers, but then he tells me to try one. And it only goes and bloody works.” 

“What did he show you? Do you have any written down?” 

“Ahh well no you see, that’s where I got a little fuzzy later on, I can remember some of the incantations but like a nanna telling a bad joke I cannot remember the punch line.” 

Killian waves his hand again, making the food and drink disappear. 

“This I learnt later. And these are low level trickery and magic, his magic, Big G’s magic was so much more than this.”

“Yeah that much we figured, this isn’t our first rodeo.” Dean said through gritted teeth, this guy was wasting their time. Sam placed his hand on his brother’s thigh and rubbed soothingly over the denim.

“So Big G came back.”

Killian’s eyes dip down to the worktop and back up to the brothers, he almost flinches at the memory.

“Yeah, he came back, like I said just when I had given up hope. He told me he was foolish to have shown me such magic, that he’d wrongly thought I could handle such knowledge. I still don’t really understand what he did to free those poor boys.”

“We could really do with knowing how he broke that spell though Killian, please we need to know.” Sam says adopting his best puppy dog eyes. 

“Aww lads, I, ummm…I wish I could help ya.” 

Dean stood up, looking large over the table.

“Don’t make us get rough now Irish. We need to know what you saw even if you don’t understand it.”

Killian visible cowers, becoming a shadow of his former flamboyant self. 

“Ok, ok...please don’t hurt me. I can’t tell you something I don’t know, all I can tell you is, when we got to the trees, he chanted something in French, I don’t speak French I could just recognise that was the language. The ground sort of shook and cracked, like the roots were breaking up. He then poured this liquid all over the ground; it looked like molten metal, you know, like liquid silver or something. Then there was a flash of light and the boys started climbing out of the trees like nothing had happened they didn’t know who I was or where they’d been.”

Killian swallowed, “Then Big G told me never to ask for his help again, he did something to my mind, made all those memories muddled. That’s why I can’t do any of the magic he taught me properly, e-e-e-even now it goes wrong. So I gave up using it, had to learn all new stuff much lesser stuff, but tricks I can do to impress guys and get me free stuff. It’s enough I don’t need that level of magic, it’s d-d-d-dangerous, people could get hurt.”

Even though Dean wasn’t sold on the guy, Sam could see that Killian was scarred by this “Big G” that whatever was said to him wasn’t said with a friendly pat on the back and a smile. Killian’s eye twitched a little when he recalled the memories and he stuttered like it was painful for him to say aloud.

“So you’ve never seen or heard from him since?” Sam asked in a soft calm voice.

Killian snapped out of his reverie, “No, lord, no…I never want to either.”

“Could you describe him to me? What was his real name?” Sam asked.

“Well I could describe him but seeing as I have a photo, I may as well just show you fellows that. He never told me his name, said I could call him G, but I started calling him Big G once he stood up and towered over me.” 

Killian stands up and wanders over to a desk covered in papers and mess. He picks up an old phone; they all wait patiently as the start up chime rings out.

“Here that’s the one I took of him, he didn’t know I took it, he was real funny about having his photo taken. I’d tried to take a selfie with him on one of our days together. Well he damn near broke my hand getting the phone from me. But that photo.” Killian gestures to the image on the phone that Dean is holding. “That photo I took on the first night I met him, I couldn’t believe he was talking to me so I took one to prove it to my friends.” Killian says with a smirk.

The image shows the side profile of a painfully handsome man, dark hair and dark blue eyes, the photo is taken from low down and it’s obvious that the subject is unaware the photo is being taken.

“Please take the phone, I think it would be better if I didn’t have the proof anyway.” Killian says. “Could you please go now I’m feeling awfully tired?”

Sam thanks the small frightened looking man, wishing he could offer some reassurance that nothing would happen to him, but he doesn’t have a clue who or what they are dealing with. 

Dean is already in the car, engine revving, when Sam gets there.

“What the fuck Sam? Who the fuck is this guy?” Dean asked sounding agitated.

Sam shrugs, he fiddles with the phone and with a couple of beeps the photo has been sent to all the relevant phones. He quickly breaks Killian’s old phone apart and as soon as they are a few miles out of the city Sam periodically hurls parts of it onto the road. He puts the memory card and sim into his pocket, he’ll destroy them later.


	23. Seeking Comfort Part Twenty-Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles makes a plan...

Stiles listens closely. He can hear the sound of his pulse thundering in waves in his ears. He can hear the creaks on the wooden panels of the room he’s in, and when he quiets all those sounds, he can hear the solid footsteps of Garrick, from, what he estimates to be, two floors up. He knows Garrick is heading his way, after leaving Stiles for what seemed to be hours. 

Stiles goes over the plan in his head, he starts to force tears to well in his eyes. He frantically pulls at the binds on his wrists; causing the skin to tear and swell. He bites into the gag making sure he catches his lip against his teeth, the sharp metallic tang against his tongue tells him he’s succeeded. 

As the footsteps get closer he starts to growl, working up to a sob, deep and guttural. The same sobs he’s heard countless times in his Dad’s jail, the sobs of men who’ve lost all hope. He starts to rock manically back and forth when he hears the keys slide into the slot.

“Stiles, my dar…” Garrick pauses as the door clicks shut behind him, his eyes run all over the figure curled on the floor in front of him.

“Well, what’s happened here?” Garrick asks rhetorically, tough he cannot hide the glee in his voice.

He slowly edges towards Stiles, quietly and softly. Making those reassuring sounds that a mother would make to their child. “Sussh now Stiles, it’s ok my boy…hush.”

He places the flat of his palm against the boy’s clammy, warm skin. Stiles body jolts still at the touch. Cautiously Stiles raises his head up, showing Garrick his swollen, blood stained lips and his puffy sore eyes. 

“My boy…” Garrick gently unhooks the gag in Stiles’ mouth and the ball falls out of the youth’s painful looking lips. 

“S-s-sir.” Stiles whispers. “I can’t…can’t…”. Is all Stiles can pant out before he begins that deep, pained sob again. Stiles pulls on all the sadness he can muster, all the pain he’s felt in his life and locked tightly away. He recalls it all, in sharp clarity, in his mind. The howls of sorrow rip from his body. If he were to dwell on it, the ease in which he can produce these sounds, this pain, would be worrying, but Stiles’ isn’t dwelling; he’s acting, he’s reeling Garrick in, gaining his trust. 

Garrick crouches down and pulls the young boy into his arms. He delicately strokes at his hair and mutters non-sense reassurances into his ear.

Stiles gradually lets his body begin to relax against the older man’s, he lets his sobs turn slowly and calculatedly into hiccups, gasps for breaths. He lets his head fall against the broad shoulders of his kidnapper.

“Sorry…s-s-sir.” Stiles sniffs out in his best ‘wounded puppy’ voice. 

“Sooosh now Stiles, you’ve nothing to be sorry for.” Garrick strokes the boys body, his fingers gliding over the naked flesh. With a flick of his fingers, the boy’s bound wrists are free. As if Stiles’ weighs nothing, Garrick picks him up and tenderly lays him on the bed. 

Stiles closes his eyes and lets out soft irregular sobs, like a defeat child after a tantrum. He can hear Garrick next to him, and when he opens his eyes again he sees Garrick mixing up something in a bowl. 

“This will help with the swelling.” Garrick says softly as he applies the ointment carefully to Stiles’ bruised and swollen skin.

“So tired…I’m so tired Sir.” Stiles whispers, again letting his exhaustion leak out into his speech.

Garrick pulls the blanket over Stiles and lets the boy sleep. 

Stiles hears Garrick open the door, Cleaver must be on the other side as he hears Garrick talk to him in a whispered voice.

“It’s begun Cleaver, I’ve broken him.” 

“You won’t be needing this then Master?” Stiles hears the clink of a spoon against a mug and knows that Cleaver was bringing him that sweet tea. He can feel his breath tighten in his chest waiting for Garrick’s response.

“No Cleaver, we’re done with that, the boy is mine now, we just have to be patience with him. But no more tea, he’s mine.” Garrick says with almost a giggle in his voice.

~

Stiles must have genuinely fallen asleep at some point because he wakes with a start. Garrick is sat in a chair at the end of the bed. A tray of food is place next to him.

“I thought you might like some food, my boy.” 

“P-p-p-please…” Stiles says as he pulls himself upright. He attempts feebly to pull the food towards him pretending he’s too weak and frail to feed himself. Garrick jumps at the chance.

He comes to sit at the head of the bed. He pulls Stiles’ back against his chest, but stops.

“Is this ok?” He asks.

“Yes…yes…sir.” Stiles says shyly, trying to school the expression on his face to read as confusion and reluctance.

“It’s ok, Stiles, I’m not going to hurt you.” Garrick says with a smile. 

Stiles lets out the smallest of smiles, just a hint of acceptance.

“Well not unless you want me too that is.” Garrick adds with a squalid smile and wink.

A knot forms in Stiles stomach at the thought but he holds on to the idea of getting back to Chris, getting his freedom back and his swallows down his disgust.

He controls his thoughts and manages to turn the flash of anger he feels burn in his cheeks, into a look of shy desire.

As Garrick spoons soup to Stiles’ still sore mouth, he repeats, “Good boy, my boy, such a good boy.”

~

Stiles manages to drag out this act - wounded, in shock and broken - for about a day. He now knows that he has to move on to the next stage. He has to make Garrick believe that he is committed to him, that Stiles wants him.

Stiles is still curled up in bed, Garrick is reading a book in the armchair next to the bed. Stiles pretends to wake up, making an exaggerated yawn.

“Hello there, sleepy head.” Garrick says in an overly familiar tone, it makes Stiles stomach flip, not in a good way. 

“What time is it?” Stiles asks sleepily. 

“Just after 6am.”

“Don’t you ever sleep?” Stiles asks in a teasing voice.

“Well I have to look after you, don’t I? Can’t have you waking up without me here.”

Stiles smiles over at Garrick, but then coyly looks down at the bed, as if he were embarrassed. He pats the empty bed next to him.

“May I?” Garrick asks politely, seemingly hoping Stiles “break down” had erased the last, god knows, how many days from his mind. Stiles pushes the images of him spread eagle and him naked bouncing around on Garrick, to the back on his mind and just nods, like a broken, desperate to be loved, boy would.

“It felt nice to be against your body earlier, to…umm…to feel protected.” Stiles says softly, looking down to appear shy.

“You liked that? Really?” Garrick asks, sounding dubious.

Stiles quickly thinks of something to say, something that would justify this sudden change in feeling from him. 

“I’ve not felt really protected in a long time, my dad….um my dad.” He lets his voice crack on this word, gulps back a fake lump in his throat.

Garrick falls for it no questions asked, “It’s ok, you don’t have to explain.” He says has he pets Stiles.

“Just feels so good having someone truly powerful next to me, someone that can protect me from anything.” 

Stiles then swallows back a genuine lump in his throat this time, mustering the courage to say the lies that he knows need to be heard. “Chris couldn’t protect me, couldn’t save me like you can Sir, and I see that now.” Stiles’ voice genuinely breaks as he says these lies, as these hurtful things spill from his mouth.

“My boy, my darling boy.” Garrick says as he pulls Stiles’ naked body into his lap. His huge wide hands cradling Stiles, as if he were some injured animal. Stiles quiets his mind, he focuses on his happy place, he closes his eyes and imagines Chris is holding him, Chris is keeping him safe. He thinks of his freedom and getting back to his life with Chris as he leans forward and locks his lips onto Garrick’s.

It’s all the encouragement Garrick needs; he leans in with gusto, capturing the youth’s swollen and tender lips, letting his tongue plough into the teen’s mouth.

“So beautiful, so beautiful, my boy, my beautiful boy.”

Stiles feels a sob swell in his body, quickly he changes it into a moan of fake pleasure, leading on the older man. 

Stiles’ eyes are screwed tightly shut; he lets Garrick manoeuvre his body, lets him lay Stiles out on the bed. In his head he repeats a mantra, “My Chris, my freedom, my Chris, my freedom…” As Garrick places kisses all over his face and moves slowly and sensuously down his slender frame, Stiles thinks only of Chris; wills his body to react the way it would, if Chris was kissing him. He feels a sense of relief when he gets the tingling in his balls and feels his penis start to harden. 

“My Chris, my freedom, my Chris….” The chant intensifies as he feels Garrick’s warm, wet mouth slide down over the length of his cock. Stiles moans and lets his hand grab at Garrick’s head, like he would with Chris, but when his hand grabs at a thick handful of hair he quickly pulls off. That is not Chris’ head, those are not Chris’ lips. 

Garrick pulls off, with an audible slurp, and looks up at Stiles. “Are you ok, my boy?” he asks licking his lips. 

“Yes, yes sir.” Stiles says looking into the man’s face, frantically thinking how to diverge the attention away from his hesitation. “Umm I just, I didn’t want you to feel left out.” As soon as the words had left his mouth Stiles regretted them; knew what it would mean.

Garrick sits up and places a wet full kiss onto Stiles’ mouth. Stiles hold back the retch, as he tastes himself on those lips. He hears Garrick lowering his fly, feels his body weight shift from side to side to slide his trousers a little further down his thighs. 

Garrick slowly pushes Stiles down so he’s lying on the bed, and then tilts Stiles’ body into his own so that they can simultaneously suck at each other. Stiles use to love this position with Chris; they could spend hours enjoying each other’s bodies.

As he opens his mouth, he closes his eyes tightly and leans in, swallowing Garrick’s cock. 

“My Chris, my freedom, my Chris, my freedom…”


	24. Seeking Comfort Part Twenty-Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gahhh Stiles my precious Stiles!

Sam and Dean pull up to Chris’ house a little after 11pm. Both men are shattered, but as they walk through the front door they realise everyone is tired.

\- Scott is evidently still on shift by the tree guarding against someone, something, they have no control over. Hell, they don’t even know what they are facing really. - Alison and Derek are both hunched over books at the table in dining room; - Chris is frantically pacing in the kitchen phone strapped to his ear. - Isaac is crashed out asleep on the sofa, blanket up round his ears.

The boys had picked up take-out on the way back; they loudly dump about 10 or so containers onto the kitchen table. 

“Chow!” Dean hollers.

Promptly figures appear in the room with them. Chris ends his call and walks over to give the guys a weary ‘welcome back’ pat on the shoulder.

As they tuck into the food they discuss what they’ve discovered.

Sam slurps a noodle into his mouth, “So you all got the photo right?”

“What the dodgy stalker-ish photo of some dude in a club?” Alison replies.

“Yup that’s our guy – G or Big G, as our lead called him.” Dean says around a mouthful of crispy duck.

“Is that all we know, please tell me we have more details than that?” Chris says pushing a forkful of mushy rice and sauce around his plate, not even attempting to eat it.

Sam’s face drops and Dean coughs.

“Well, we don’t know much more about the actual guy, but we know more about the spell.” 

He goes on to explain everything Killian had told them, all the details, hoping something might lead to a breakthrough.

Once Dean and Sam have explained everything they know, Derek raises his head. 

“The liquid he used, I think I might know what it is.” 

The whole table looks on him anxiously; Isaac tilts his head as if to hear a little better.

“Boiled werewolf blood. I’ve heard of it being used before, way, way back, there was a spate of attacks, ‘weres’ being captured and drained like pigs in a slaughter houses.”

“Boiled werewolf blood?” Isaac says scrunching his face up in disgust.

“Umm, yeah, the viscosity changes, it becomes more like a syrup. Lots of spells and incantations call for it; its so old fashioned though, modern warlocks, witches, whatever, don’t bother. Plus werewolves have gotten stronger and cleverer, it’s not worth the effort, so the magic evolved.”

When he had finished, an uncomfortable silence filled the room. The unasked question hanging in the air. 

Derek’s face contoured and his brow furrowed as he calculated a solution. 

“We can collect about 2 to 3 pints per session from the three of us. Depending on how much we need, um, no one should have to die.” He attempted a tone of lightness in his voice but it fell flat.

“Thanks Derek,” Alison offered, as she smiled a little and squeezed his hand.

“It’s all so fucking unknown though isn’t it, all of it, all so fucking useless…I’m so fucking useless, why can’t I save him? It’s been 5 fucking days. ” Chris’ volume increased with his anger, seeing his friends and family having to drain themselves because he fucked up. He pushed his chair away from the table and stomped out of the room.

Dean started to stand up, but Alison motioned for him to sit down.

“Leave him for a bit, he needs to cool off alone.” She paused for a moment, “Right we need to find some facts and we need to get some answers. We have leads now, lots of them. We know that the French language and France is key to this, the person we are looking for has a link to Lucien, his name begins with G and we know what he looks like. Uncle Sammy, you still got those geeky friends that can find anyone on the Internet in a matter of seconds?” Alison asked hopefully.

“Yeah, shit, yeah I do…fuck, can’t believe I didn’t send it to them first. Sorry Ali.” Sam said as he reached for his phone. Dean rubbed his brother affectionately on the back before he stands up.

“And I know an old hunter that specialises in European incantations and spells, it’s a long shot but it might be worth giving him a call.” 

With that Alison, Isaac and Derek are left to clear up the mess from dinner.

“We should start collecting the blood,” Derek says in deep, slightly worn out voice. “Its better we start now; so we have time to recover, build our strength back up. Isaac, come with me to the hospital, I could use your big beautiful eyes to help with the nurses.” 

He playfully ruffles Isaac’s hair as they leave together.

“Right then, umm, I guess I’ll hit the books again, that’s if…umm...anyone cares?” Alison says to the, now empty, kitchen.

~

Stiles is up and dressed for the first time in what feels like weeks. They aren’t his usual clothes. He doesn’t even remember what he was wearing when he got here, wherever ‘here’ is. He’s wearing a pair of black leather pants, perfectly moulded to his body, he doesn’t even remember putting them on, he imagines a lot of baby powder was involved. On top he’s wearing a tight v-neck white t-shirt, he feels vaguely ridiculous, but he doesn’t complain. 

That being said, apart from the stupid outfit, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this strong before, this at peace and focussed in his own mind. As much as he hates Garrick and he resents him for the whole kidnapping thing, he is thankful that because of Garrick he unleashed this power within him. From the first awful time he used his power when he was strapped to the fucking horse, naked and plugged; well, since that moment it’s like someone has turned off the buzzing in his head. Not to be super geeky or anything but all he can liken it too, is that moment when Neo finally “sees” the Matrix, when he gets it. That’s how Stiles feels, like he finally gets “it”. However it fucking terrifies him too, he’s just Stiles, nobody important; nothing special. He isn’t the main character in the story, he’s just the quirky yet adorable sidekick, and he knows his role. This power, this ability, he doesn’t know how to use it or what it means, he doesn’t know what he is now, who he is now?

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by Garrick’s high-pitched whistle; the type a sleazy builder would give. 

“Well, well, well, my darling boy, you look good enough to eat, but alas I know that I promised you a lesson and I am, if nothing else, a man of my word.” He says to Stiles, with a wink that unsettles Stiles’ stomach.

“Shall we?” Garrick says, holding out his arm to Stiles, as if he were escorting a princess to her first ball. 

Stiles plays the game, acts out his role; he knows what Garrick likes now. Its actually quite pathetic how transparent Garrick is, how needy and lonely he is, how much he just wants someone to love and fuss over. Stiles sees it all, he’s read all the different moods and seen all the different faces Garrick puts on. 

They are back in the torture chamber/sex dungeon, but now it’s also a training room of sorts, with safety mats and padded walls. There is a mirrored wall along the far side that wasn’t there the last time Stiles was in here. He walks up to it and gasps.

“My hair, fuck my hair is so long.” He grabs at his hair, now a good inch longer than when he last saw it. 

“How fuc…how long have I been here?” Stiles calms himself down, masks the panic he feels.

“Hummm…” Garrick puts on a theatrical voice, “Time, Stiles is just –well- time, who really knows how long any period of time is, we’re just getting to know each other, aren’t we? Just enjoying each other and having fun.”

Stiles takes a moment, studies his appearance.

“Please Sir, how long have I been down here? I’d just like to know.” He ducks his head; lets Garrick know how important this is to him.

Garrick walks up behind him and loops his arms round his waist. 

“Well about 3 weeks down here, but up there,” Garrick points to the ceiling, “Well it’s only been 5 days or so.”

Stiles shakes his head, that doesn’t compute. Garrick must have had him drugged for so many days, maybe a week? Time doesn’t seem to pass in the same way down here. Stiles was so sure it had only been a few days. Though now he thinks about it he had been feeling stronger and his body had bulked out; Garrick said that a strong mind needed a strong body. Fuck, when had he said that, Stiles’ face tensed with concentration.

“Baby, you ok?” Garrick purred in Stiles’ ears.

“Sorry Sir, I just haven’t been keeping track of time I guess, I just feel a little confused.” He shook his head and forced a smile. Twisting on his feet he turned and placed a chased kiss on Garrick’s lips.

“So, the lesson you promised me?” Stiles said with a cheeky smile, the smile he knew always got to Garrick.

“Of course. Well I explained a little about the power you have, it’s completely natural Stiles. Those silly pills and potions, all those hours spent with a therapist; well baby that was all just a mask - you are a warlock Stiles. A bloody powerful one might I add.”

“A warlock?” Stiles’ mind reeled. 

“Yes a warlock, a wizard, Harry Potter, Gandalf the Grey…etc, etc. There are countless films that you’ve surely seen. Well my darling, precious boy, you are a real life one. Quite frankly I can’t believe I missed it, but as I said those pills of yours were really hiding all your talents away. Here, give me your hand.”

Stiles lays open his hand in Garrick’s palm. Garrick waves his free hand over Stiles’; he makes a small, bright orange flame appear.

“Make the fire roar.” He said as he stepped away from the teen.

The fire in Stiles’ hand immediately starts to flicker and diminish. 

“I don’t know how, what do I do, shit it’s going out?” Stiles pleaded as the flame begins to smoulder and disappear.

“Just make it happen boy!” Garrick shouts as his eyes glow red and a 6ft flame bursts from Stiles’ open palm.

“Holy fuck.” Stiles screeches, jumping back from the flame. “Wow!”

Garrick smiles, impressing the boy is one of his favourite things to do these days. The love and admiration he has for Stiles is growing. He knows it’s foolish, but this boy is different, and he can see how much Stiles trusts, and in return, admires him. They are like teenagers falling in love.

Stiles looks at the flame still burning on the floor; Garrick is looking at him with puppy dog eyes again. He does that a lot. Stiles ignores it, just lets him look. He focuses his mind on the flame, thinks about the flame being in his hand. He thinks about the power and strength he needs to escape, the energy he needs to get back to Chris. The sound of a spark fills the room, a huge burst of light spreads out from Stiles’ palm. The sound of fireworks roars and it’s like hundreds of mini-explosions come out of his hand, he thinks harder, focuses on Garrick’s flame. He has to be bigger and better than Garrick, he has to beat him, and he has to overpower him if he is ever to get back to Chris, his Chris, his love, and his life. The explosions suddenly morph into a gigantic smooth, perfectly formed flame. It’s well over 8ft tall. Stiles watches with pride as the flame engulfs Garrick’s flame, destroying it and growing even bigger in height.

“Wonderful, my boy, look at that, look how magnificent it became when our powers combined.” 

Stiles’ attention drops from the flame. The heat and light flicker, and then are instantly extinguished when he realises what Garrick has said. Garrick walks over to him, he cups the teens face. 

“Together Stiles, we can take on the world, we could have it all.”

Stiles forces a smile, he hopes it looks like a proud or hopefully, happy smile and in a way it is, but it’s also a smile of relief. Stiles now sees he can learn all he needs to from Garrick without ever worrying about him suspecting something.

“You’ll have to teach me everything you know, my Master. If I’m ever to become as powerful as you are.” Stiles says to Garrick, staring him squarely and unblinkingly in the eye. He knows it’s intense, it feels intense, shit he’s getting good at this acting shit. 

He leans in and lets Garrick kiss him, it’s deep and overwhelming, full of tongues and hands. The smell and taste of Garrick no longer makes Stiles retch, he has become so good at pretending, even now he feels his cock being to swell. Like a well-trained dog, he can get hard on command now, no feelings or thoughts involved. Garrick’s hand reaches for his cock, palming the bulge in the thick leather.

“You did well today my boy. Would you like your reward now?” Garrick asks, kissing Stiles’ jaw line.

“Umm…please sir.” Stiles says dreamily. 

Garrick sinks to his knees. Stiles leans back against the mirror and smiles to himself, he lets the feeling of power and superiority race through his veins. 

“Harder.” He commands, forcing Garrick’s mouth further onto his cock.


	25. Seeking Comfort Part Twenty-Five

Between them Team Stiles had, had approximately 25 hours sleep in the last few days. The thud of sleepy feet come trampling down the stairs. Alison, as always, was the first in the kitchen, brewing up yet another pot of coffee.

“Morning Sammy,” She said, as she went up on tiptoes to give her adopted uncle a kiss on the cheek. Behind him a sleepy and shirtless Dean wandered in.

“Morning sweets.” Dean said as he kissed the top of her head. He slipped round his brother to grab the first cup of coffee.

“Is my dad up? Do you know?” Alison asked.

“Umm I think I heard the shower on in his room, but I’m not sure Ali, I’ll go check.” Dean said as he took a big gulp from his cup. 

~

“Chris, buddy.” Dean said softly as he knocked on the bedroom door. “Chris, coffee and morning meeting, come on bud.” He said a little louder.

The door pushed open, Dean could hear the shower running in the bathroom, and there was steam billowing out.

“Shit Chris, hey buddy…” Dean placed the coffee mug on the side and reached across the spray to flip the shower off, leaning over the hunched figured on the floor.

“S’all my fault Dean, my stupid fucking fault he’s gone. I left him. It’s all on me. I love him so much, Dean.” Chris mumbled out. He wasn’t crying, Dean didn’t really know how to explain his state, but it definitely wasn’t the first time he’d had to deal with a hunter in this shape.

Dean grabbed a huge fluffy white towel from the door and pulled Chris’ naked body up from the floor. He wrapped the towel round Chris’ broad shoulders and pulled him into a classic Winchester bear hug.

“Man, it fucking sucks, it hurts and you have every right to feel shitty. But Chris, you know that being in a state and getting down on yourself, ain’t gonna help Stiles out one bit. So come here,” He said pulling Chris’ limp frame even further towards his body. Chris let out a huff of air. “You got two minutes man, cry, scream, hit me, whatever you want, but you gotta let go of that blame and anger and then you gotta move, the fuck, on; because we sure as shit need you to bring you’re ‘A’ game Chrissy boy.”

Those words were all Chris needed, his whole body collapsed even further into Dean’s and he let out a howl that sounded as if it came from deep down in his feet. Dean subtly pushed the bathroom door closed with a click, hoping to give the guy a bit of privacy.

“It’ll be ok man, you know we got this. This is our deal, you save our asses, we save yours and your boys. OK.” Dean muttered whilst tenderly rubbing at Chris’ towel covered back. 

Dean could feel the hot tears gather on his neck. The wails of pain had subsided, to be replaced with an altogether sadder sound of sorrow; those heartbreaking little catches of breath, the sobs of a man that was truly lost and felt genuinely alone. Dean knew the sound, and the feeling, all too well. 

~

All the boys had congregated in the kitchen. Derek had summoned a couple of nomadic wolves to keep watch at the tree, he promised them a slice of the action in return, they were happy enough to stick around. So all three wolves could at last be at the headquarters helping out.

Sam and Derek were setting up a makeshift blood donation centre on the window seat. Hooking up the bags and tubes, which were newly acquired from the very friendly nurses at the local hospital, to an improvised blood bag stand and the wall.

“I guess I’ll go first then?” Said Derek, a little sheepishly. Isaac came over to do as the nurses had instructed. He opened up a new needle, connected everything up and strapped a tourniquet round Derek’s tense bicep. 

“Dude you have to relax.” He told his alpha, giving his thigh a rather intimate squeeze, which did not go unnoticed by Sam. The hunter just raised his eyebrows, and when he saw Derek watching him, he just gave the grumpy werewolf an exaggerated wink.

“Fuck off brother lover...owww Fuck - Isaac, give a guy a little warning!” He gruffly said, but Issac had already found the vein and taped the needle securely to his alpha’s arm.

“Please, that was a textbook technique, plus I knew you’d make a fuss if you were watching.” 

The room momentarily fell silent, as all five of them watched the silver liquid begin to fill into the blood bag. 

“Here squeeze this.” Isaac broke the silence, handing Derek a squidgy stress ball. 

Derek clenched his jaw and started to rhythmically squeeze the toy. 

The door to the kitchen swung open, Dean and Chris walked in, both freshly showered and, for Dean, unusually quiet.

“Dad!” Alison cried as she ran over and gave her father a huge, warm hug.

“I’m sorry for storming off yesterday, sorry if I scared you baby girl.” Chris said as he kissed her head.

“Glad you’re back, that’s all. Plus now we can start the meeting.”

“Shit, what the hell is that, I don’t want to watch a werewolf being drained as I eat my goddamn breakfast.” Dean had quickly gotten over his quiet mood. “Goddamn fucking animals at the breakfast table.” He mumbled.

Isaac, Derek and Scott all started to growl in response, Derek’s eyes flashing red.

“Boys, calm down, come on…we are all here for the same reason. We need to save Stiles, your petty squabbling is just going to slow us down, so hush!” Alison said in her best school ma’m voice.

Quiet fell and everyone, except Derek, gathered around the table.

“Umm, I’ll go first.” Sam said, pulling a thick wodge of paper from out of his bag.

“So my guys over in Pasadena found him. Well to be more accurate, they found lots of possible ‘hims’.” Sam spread out the papers, there were about 30 sheets, all with different photos and profiles on - Facebook, Instagram, match.com, Grindr, Tinder…all the social media and dating sites you can think of.

Alison picked up a random sheet.

“Taylor Randall Robinson, 34 years old. Likes twinks, old cars and French literature. From Chicago.” 

Scott picked up another.

“Verner Dunkle, 29, from Frankfurt. Looking for an American girl to settle down with. Likes weiner dogs and French cinema.”

Chris splayed the sheets out on the table.

“Fuck, how would we know if he’s any of these? He could be fucking none of them.”

Sam dove back into his bag, this time pulling out a single sheet of paper and laying it flat on the table.

Dean read it aloud.

“The Telegraph, 10th of August 1996 – Mr G. Emmerson III & Miss E. Astor-Raleigh. The engagement is announced between Garrick, son of Diana and Garrick Emmerson II of London, and Emilie, daughter of Cecilia and Charles Astor-Raleigh, of Windsor.”

Underneath the announcement was a perfectly posed photograph of a nineteen year old, solemn faced, Garrick and his beautiful blushing wife to be, who looked all of seventeen years old in the photo.

“My guys said, after that announcement Garrick Emmerson III completely disappeared from the World Wide Web and any social records. No social media profiles in that name, no credit cards, bank accounts; there are no census, tax or work records of him. No death certificate or missing persons, nothing. It’s like he never existed.”

“What about the girl?” Scott asked.

“Emilie Astor-Raleigh went on to marry some other English Duke or Lord or something. They now live in London with their chubby cheeked children and their corgi’s. She hasn’t spoken to or about Garrick ever since; none of her emails, Facebook or phone conversations has ever made reference to him. It’s like she never knew him.”

“What the fuck? How can someone just disappear, but not disappear, the dude reinvented himself dozens of times.” Scott enquired.

“Yup all over the world, it would seem. He never settled anywhere long, there are about 33 images of his face on the Internet and they are all posed, one profile picture, that was verified each time, by my guys, as him. But no embarrassing photos posted by friends, no boyfriends, girlfriends or family members attached to any of the aliases.”

“I don’t get the connection to this Lucien guy at all. Why would he be able to reproduced so much of Lucien’s magic?” Alison asked.

“My guys couldn’t make the link either, understandably there isn’t much out there about Lucien, he’s quoted in a couple of hunter’s pages on the alt web, but nothing that links him to this Garrick guy. But this is unquestionably our guy. We cross referenced locations and profiles; he was definitely in San Francisco at the time our lead said he was. He was then going by...” Sam scrabbles through the papers. “…this guy at the time. George Avery, 33 from Cambridge, England. Into alternative music, interior design and the work of French artist Henri Matisse.”

“He sure does like French stuff doesn’t he, do you think he’s just some crazy Lucien wannabe, a fan of his work? It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen that kind of thing!” Dean adds.

“Yeah I came to the same conclusion, I’m not sure how, but he’s by some means heard of or seen Lucien’s magic and now is just a fanatic.”

“No…nope…no way…” Chris said. “There’s no way that someone who’s just a bit crazy or kind of interested in Lucien would know that I killed him, would be able to track me down enough that he could kidnap the man I love.” Chris shook his head trying to figure it out.

“An ex-lover perhaps?” Alison offered.

“A vengeful lover.” Chris said flatly, squeezing his temples.

Dean slaps Chris on the back, “Well buddy, you are in luck because between us; you, Sammy and me have killed off many a vengeful lover!”

Chris takes a deep breath and attempts to smile. “Ok, what next?”

Alison shifts from her seat, leaves the room, only to quickly return carrying a leather bound book, that must be more than 100 years old.

“So Dean’s contact said about the Bibliothèque bleue – Grimoire 1873.” Alison places that very book down on the table.

Dean continues, “He didn’t have a clue how to pinpoint the exact chant but he said without any doubt it would be in this book. Lucky for us, you Chris, have a very talented daughter.”

Alison blushed, “Well Dad can speak fluent French too, it’s not that amazing. But anyway, I think that roughly translated, this chant or spell…” Alison flips open the book to the marked page. “Means ‘To unbind the trees from below’.” 

Chris pulls his daughter into a hug and for the first time in day’s smiles.

“Thank you so much guys. Now lets get a plan devised.”

 

~

“17, 18, 19…20. Well done my boy, excellent, excellent.” Garrick effortlessly lifts the 150lb-weighted bar from Stiles’ grip. Stiles exhales loudly and pulls himself up from the bench. 

His body glistens with sweat, he’s never been in this kind of shape before; his arms are defined and strong, not bulky for show, he has real solid, strength in them. He can punch fast and hard; lift firmly and consistently. He feels pumped and good; he knows he looks good too. Garrick cannot keep his eyes or his hands off him. 

Stiles has started to enjoy the game, he enjoys the power. He stands up from the bench and pulls his white vest over his head and uses the bunched up fabric to wipe the sweat from his body. He can feel Garrick’s eyes on him tracking his movements. Stiles’ stretches out, reaches his arms up above him, and then bends forward at the waist. He hears a moan slip from Garrick’s lips. 

“You will most definitely be the death of me boy. Now come here and spot me.”

Garrick loads up his weights, he can press 350lbs; no magic needed, just focus and discipline. Stiles’ stands over him at the end of the bench, his soft sweatpants sitting low on his muscled pelvis. 

“I hit 30, you owe me a reward right?” Garrick says playfully.

“Of course Master, a deals, a deal.” Stiles’ says as he braces himself over the bigger man.

With ease and barely breaking a sweat Garrick reaches the agreed 30 reps., once the bar is back in it’s cradle, Stiles dutifully straddles Garrick’s prone body. 

The older man’s chest rises and falls with his recent exertion but he’s able to easily sit up a little for a better view.

Stiles locks eyes with Garrick as he folds down his sweatpants. There is no underwear, Garrick never wears it; his thick, hard cock springs from his pants. 

“Umm so big master, so fat, all mine.” Stiles purrs, he knows exactly which buttons and how hard to push each of them to get Garrick’s blood pumping. “All I need Sir just need you and me together.” Stiles’ tongue slides out from his lips as he slowly wraps his obscene teenage mouth around his ‘masters’ cock. 

“Errrrr fuck me, your mouth boy, your fucking mouth.” Garrick says as his head drops back to the worn bench with a thud.

Stiles’ expertly works him, sliding up and down, using his fingers. He gently cradles Garrick’s balls; he runs the pad of his thumb back and pushes firmly but tenderly on that sensitive patch of skin. He suckles the head in his mouth and rubs the tip of his tongue over the bundle of nerves. He combines both sensations knowing that on the fourth flick of his tongue Garrick will spill himself into Stiles’ mouth. 

Stiles pulls off without spilling a drop, he makes a show of swallowing the load. He’s gotten really good at not shuddering or retching. He’s almost fooled himself into believing that it’s ok, that he likes it. He crawls up Garrick’s body and without command kisses his master on the lips, plunging his tongue into his mouth. Knowing that he wants to taste himself on Stiles.

“Target practice?” Stiles said as he abruptly changes the subject.

“Oh yes, that was fun last week wasn’t it…well not so much for poor Cleaver but he’s recovered by now.” Garrick said with a gleefully smile.

Garrick tidies himself up and magic’s away the gym equipment. He then claps his hands twice.

“Cleaver my dear, we need to do another round of target practice and you were such a good sport last week that we can’t possible do it without you.”

“Umm…as you wish, Sir.” Cleaver says grumpily, but like the good little servant he is, he takes up his position at the end of the newly erected assault course. 

“Three, two, one….GO!” Stiles shouts. 

Cleaver swipes furiously at his amulet, he flashes in and out of visibility. Stiles and Garrick quickly and efficiently create perfectly formed globes of fire, acid, metal, and snow, all of which they hurl at Cleaver.

Both men dash about with huge smiles on their faces, whipping their arms back and forth, flicking the deadly spheres at the servant. 

A bloodcurdling scream fills up the room and Garrick raises his arm quickly to halt play, though Stiles whips out another ball at the already injured man. Luckily for Cleaver, Stiles had seen the ball of acid cover Cleaver’s face and arms, so the last ball he sent was a large snowball; allowing the poor disfigured servant a little cool relief.

“That was a bit of luck old chap, wasn’t it?” Garrick said to the servant, as he pulls him up off the ground. He waves his hand over the other mans face. Most of the acid disappears, but there are still patches that have already burnt away the skin and stuck to the fabric of his clothes. Another wave of his hand and Cleaver’s skin is covered in a pungent ointment.

“There you go old boy. You’ll be right as rain in no time. Go, um, go rest up.”

Cleaver hobbled out of the room, casting Stiles a deadly glare and muttering under his breath. Stiles doesn’t especially want to harm the old man, but if he is jealous of Stiles, then that means Stiles’ plan is working. 

Garrick walks back over to Stiles, he cups the teen’s arse in his hand and squeezes tightly as he pulls the boy towards him.

“You are getting so fast and observant, I didn’t even realise I’d thrown acid on the old bugger, but you threw the snow ball on purpose didn’t you. You little softy.”

Garrick obviously thinks this is endearing as he gropes Stiles and pulls him into a deep kiss. 

Gently Stiles pushes the older man away, “Umm could we spar? Maybe…then hit the sauna? I just want to work on my defensive spells…I want to be as great and powerful as you are Sir.” Stiles adopted a pout and puppy dog eyes, it’s teasing and playful and works every fucking time.

“Oh ok then, one round, then we hit the sauna.”

Stiles waves his hand and the room transforms back into the padded and mirrored training room, he’s been practicing a lot. It comes really easily to him - magic, spells incantations - it’s like second nature. He finds it so easy in fact; he has to pretend he doesn’t get it. He purposely blows things up, conjures a cuddly toy rather than a gun, makes in rain instead of a thunderstorm. Garrick foolishly laps up every single second of it. Stiles just has to flutter his eyelids and pouts a little about how hard it is, how clever Garrick must be to do such amazing spells; he has Garrick totally and utterly wrapped around his finger. 

Except for one fucking thing. Garrick won’t even entertain teaching Stiles how to break the curse around the tree. Every time Stiles begs him, sucks on his cock then asks him if they can go outside, nothing, nada, he will not budge. “It’s too soon Stiles, you aren’t ready.” “Why do you want to leave, we have everything we need here.” “You and me, Stiles, we will conquer the whole damn world, you just need to be patience.” Stiles grits his teeth as he wraps tape around his knuckles, another nine days have past since Garrick told him time down here is faster than up there. Stiles has been keeping track, tiny marks behind the bathroom cabinet. That means he’s been down here over a month; technically, in this fucking dungeon, he’s turn 18. Garrick stole his birthday away from him. 

“My Chris, my freedom…my freedom.” Stiles mantra increases in his mind. Garrick is rubbing his face with cream, greasing up. Stiles does the same, watching the man he’s grown to loathe and despise, but also admire and respect. He knows it’s fucked up, really fucked up, but he does respect him. Garrick has incredible resolve and self-discipline and you’d have to be blind to not appreciate that he’s attractive. In a fucked up way Stiles is pleased about that, he’s only human after all. He spent days beating himself up about it, then he finally admitted that Garrick gave fucking good head. It makes it easier, it doesn’t mean anything, but it’s easier, if he at least enjoys it a little bit. 

They started doing these sparring sessions, a mix of mixed marital and magic arts. Though they could be really intense Stiles had grown to need them, these sparring sessions, he liked feeling at the same time powerful and defeated. In some way every fat lip or split eyebrow, felt like his punishment for betraying Chris. Every blowjob he’d enjoyed or given over the last month, he’d received a blow to the face or ribs for. He’d played off the injuries when Garrick had looked concerned. Told him they made him stronger for the next time. 

The magical side well Stiles didn’t have to worry about that, which was why Garrick’s size and strength evened out the playing field.

Garrick adopted a convincing Texan drawl. “Y’all ready to get yo’ ass whipped boy.” He bounced from foot to foot on the mat, arms held up ready for the fight. Stiles approached the mat; cracked his neck from one side to the other. Garrick stretched forward his arm then last minute flicked his wrist, sending a huge thunderbolt across the room. Stiles whipped round and deflected using a huge shield of magic. He kicked his leg out catching the thunderbolt with the heel of his foot, instantly the bolt scattered into hundreds of tiny shards of light that melted when they came into contact with the floor. Garrick seized the opportunity and grabbed Stiles’ foot, flipping the boy over. He landed on the mat with a thud. Garrick’s right foot then stomped down hard between Stiles’ shoulder blades. 

“Euuunnnnfff!” Stiles cried out, letting the pain resonant through his bones. He quickly pushed up onto his arms and flung himself upright. Garrick stumbled backwards, but speedily regained his composure. Stiles furrowed his brow, and with a flick of both wrists sent a sonic boom across the room. Garrick is hurtled back against the mirrored wall, which smashed into hundreds of pieces. Blood runs down his body as he attempts to pick himself up, Stiles doesn’t let him though. Before Garrick can even right himself, Stiles whipped out two chains, of what looks like lightening, from his hands. The chains wrap around Garrick’s body, shocking him like a taser, and lifting him high up in the room until he’s on the ceiling. Without mercy Stiles just lets go and Garrick hurtles downwards and with a sickening smack lands against the shattered glass on the floor. 

Seeing his ‘master’ bloodied and limp on the floor Stiles realises he’s gone too far. He suddenly collapses to the floor, pretending he’s overdone it. When he hears Garrick waking up and healing himself, Stiles starts to ‘come round.’ 

“Bloody hell Stiles, you’re getting strong. Shit, shit…shit are you ok?” Garrick’s tone changes when he sees Stiles playing almost dead on the floor.

“Was too much Sir, too overwhelming…sorry…sorry.” Stiles pants heavily, thinking back to his asthmatic sports lessons at school.

Garrick strokes Stiles’ head. “It’s ok, it’s ok...I remember what it was like when you first get the power how you don’t even know what you are doing or what strength you have.”

“Yes, Sir, yes that was it I barely knew what I was doing.” Stiles lied.

Stiles pulled himself to his feet, shakes himself off and adopted the fighters pose. 

“Last round, no magic. OK?” Stiles said, putting on his cheeky charming smile.

“Oh ok but go easy on me then!” Garrick jokingly said. 

Stiles swings out a fierce right hook, smacking Garrick squarely on the jaw. He momentarily reels from the impact, but comes back with a curl that cracks into Stiles ribs.

“More…more.” Stiles said, glee in his eyes. He playfully taps Garrick on the nose, taunting him. He then swings in with his other arm, but Garrick doesn’t fall for the distraction. His fist connects directly with Stiles’ jaw, specifically his bottom lip that bursts open on contact, blood spurts from the wound and relief washes over every inch of Stiles body.

“My boy…” Garrick calls out in panic. Stiles doesn’t let him fuss though, he kicked out, his left heel smacking directly into Garrick’s chest. As he stumbles backwards Garrick grabbed Stiles’ foot and the pair tumble to the floor, entwined in a bloody, sweaty mess.

Before Stiles can wriggle away Garrick grabs hold of his face and waves his hand over his lip. The wound is healed but the swelling remains. 

“Hey, I said don’t heal me.” Stiles called out, keeping his tone playful. He straddled the older man and starts a play fight. The tickling and slapping that he knows will soon lead to them getting each other off; but Stiles also knows he’ll bite into his fat lip as he comes making the wound fresh again.


End file.
